Deux Machine
by Gaiamancer
Summary: Self-Insert Fanfic. Our hero steps across the boundaries of fantasy and reality to alter the course of Fate.
1. Prologue

Deux Machine

_Deux Machine_

A Ranma ½ Self-Insert

Fanfic

By

Gaiamancer

Disclaimer:_Ranma ½ is the property of Rumiko Takahashi and those to whom she grants dispensation.I, unfortunately, am not among those so honored…so it goes without saying that the characters and their situations are used without permission, without dispensation, and without a clue.This story was inspired partially by all the dark, unhappily-ever-after fanfics that I wish could have ended on a better note, being the terminal optimist that I am.I also received inspiration from the story __Round Robin by the folks at Digital Knight Communications, authors of the supremely fantastic and award-winning __DnR/DnU Ranma ½ fanfic series.Rick Shelley's __Varayan Memoirs served to inspire me to worlds where fantasy and reality are not merely shadows of each other, but tidings of the same._

Prologue

Opening Theme: _A Piece of Love_

_ _

Motes of dust danced lazily in the shafts of late morning sunlight peering through the auditorium's aged venetian blinds.Yellowed by the passage of time and constant exposure to elements, the blinds clacked and scraped softly against each other, stirred by the occasional breeze that also sent the visible dust in the streams of sunlight swirling in wild circles only to settle back to their indolent drift.Several feet below the auditorium windows, students reclined in their chairs, the desks arranged in a tiered semicircle around a small floor area.The expressions on the faces of the class' attendants reflected various states of interest in the lecture being given by the instructor, who spoke away in strong tones and lively gestures from the podium near the opposite wall.

A stray beam of light crept slowly up the steps toward the top row, sweeping across several desks before alighting upon the face of a particular student who sat, slumped back in his seat, his mind in a state of complete and perfect Blankness.The Sun's ray began to burn a blinding crease across his field of vision before rudely awakening him from his reverie…

Sitting up with a start, I blinked hard several times to clear my vision.Yawning briefly, I shook my head several times to eliminate a droning that had suddenly begun in my ears.No good.What the…?

Recognition dawned upon me as I became more aware of my surroundings.A map of the world done in the style of a da Vinci inked sketch adorned the wall to my immediate right.To the left were several paintings of Renaissance, Classical and Romantic persuasions; a replica of an eleventh century tapestry hung on the wall behind me.World Literature class.The droning began again as I realized my initial attempt to tune it out had failed.I zeroed-in on the source and found it was coming from the podium.Dr. Encio, the university's Ancient Literature professor, lectured away happily in his trademark accented bassundo.I blinked again in sleep-induced confusion."Wha…?"

"Oh, yeah," I said quietly to myself as my recognitive time-binding ability backups began kicking in and my mind shifted out of _Neutral.The good Doctor was siting in for Dr. Jensen, the regular instructor, who was on a medical leave of absence.Jensen was also the university basketball team's coach, and following a stunning victory over a rival team the previous Saturday (the first in twelve years) a massive free-for-all brawl had broken out during the pandemonium that had ensued.Dr. Jensen suffered a black eye, a few bruised ribs and a sprained wrist (the latter after tendering repayment in kind to the rival coach's nose and jaw).I shook my head in amazement, recalling with amusement how far fans were willing to go in pursuit of their favorite pastimes.Glancing at the wall clock suspended over the substitute's head, I noticed class was nearly over – only five minutes to go.Might as well feign interest for the remaining duration._

Dr. Encio almost blended in perfectly with the dark mahogany of the podium, his richly tanned skin offset only by the long sleeves and collar of his gleaming white _barong.This garment, usually light-weight for wear in warmer climates with two vertical panels of latticework that ran the length of the front left and front right of the garment, was commonly found in cultures with heavy Spanish influences – especially the Philippines and Mexico.He was a native of Samar, one of several thousands of islands that made up the Visayan region of the Philippine Islands.The more prominent landmasses, Luzon and Mindanao, lay respectively to the north and south of this island group.I had visited this country in my youth and loved the year-round summer weather there.It was even worth enduring the odd typhoon that occurred maybe once a year, or every few years if the Fates were kind.I found Dr. Encio to be much like the people I had met there: kind, hardworking, and having little patience for foolhardiness._

A remarkably strong man for someone in his late seventies, Ambrosio Encio had immigrated to the United States in the mid-seventies with his daughter, recently married to an American G. I. stationed at Clark Air Base.An avid lover of the classics, he began a course of study that eventually led to a Ph.D. in Literature with a Masters in History – I had heard he was continuing this line of study with another doctorate in mind.Where he ever found the time to do so between his duties at the university and...where he ever found the time to do so was one of those Great Unanswered Questions.

Dr. Encio had launched into one of his customary digressions, book in hand, expounding on the many literary devices created millennia ago by the Greek and Roman cultures, and how many of them were still in use centuries later by writers of such renown as the Bard himself, William Shakespeare."En fehct," Encio went on in his thickly accented English, "Oo-one ob Shake-es-pearrezmosta frre-uh-quent euses ob dees debises was dat ob dee Dehyoo Machenah…"

_Deux Machine.French for the Greek concept of __Deus Ex Machina:God in the Machine.The Greeks, even in their tragedies, never believed in ending a show on a bad note.At the end of a play, characters dressed as the Gods came forth and explained how all was made right with the world and how the tragedies that occurred were made right.Shakespeare utilized this with his idea of resolution in most of his plays.Even when things have ended badly, as in __Romeo & Juliet or even __Julius Caesar, there is always something to be learned from the tragedy so things didn't happen in vain.When the villain is found out and exposed for the buffoon he is in __The Merry Wives of Windsor, the hapless chap is forgiven having learned his lesson._

The sudden ring of the bell stopped the instructor in mid-sentence.The bustle of closing books, rustling papers, zipping backpacks, and creaking chairs began to join the bell's metallic clang.Adjusting his glasses with a free hand while the other snapped his book shut, the instructor looked up at the clock and then turned his gaze back to the students, smiling at the class.Placing the book on the podium, he picked up a short stack of papers – Dr. Jensen's homework assignments, no doubt – and handed them to each of the students as they departed.Either it was my imagination, or I'm going nuts, but I _swear he chuckled softly as he handed me a copy.His cheerful mood was infectious.I smiled and laughed back, earning an odd look in my direction from Alisha, my best friend, as she waited outside the auditorium for me.She wore a sleeveless red blouse that was belted over a jean skirt…both accentuating her figure nicely.Her shoulder-length dark brown hair, which normally framed the fair color of her face, was pulled back into a ponytail held in place by a yellow bowed ribbon.A thin gold watch decorated one delicate wrist while a charm bracelet adorned the other. Though we always debated who was the taller, I insist I have at least a quarter of an inch on her.Leaning back against the wall as I walked through the doorway, her books held loosely in her arms, she continued to glance at me quizzically.I blew her a kiss and kept walking; she fell in step with me, shaking her head and muttering at how I must have completely lost it._

Background Theme: _Greetings from China_

"So, how'd your morning go?" I inquired after we exited the Language Arts building.I knew she had an Anatomy & Physiology exam first thing this morning; we had spent the better part of the last two nights studying to make sure she'd be prepared.I have every confidence in my darling Alisha.She, however, didn't seem as confident.

"I don't know.Got stumped on the last few.I'm sure I got at least a 'B'."

"You are far too modest, you know."

"Yeah, right.Anyway, I'm hungry…up for some lunch?"

My stomach noisily growled its assent."Excuse me!I guess that's a yes," I quipped in surprise.Alisha simply laughed.

As we rounded the corner heading toward the Student Union, I noticed two other friends of mine, Randall and Shawn, deep in debate.Probably over which of the newest computer game releases were the best, who the current J-pop artist favorite was, or when the next release date of their favorite anime series was going to be.Randall looked up and waved as Alisha and I walked up.He stood about half a head taller than I, with hair a few shades darker than my own brown hair and worn in a ponytail.His bearded face hid the small cached pouch of Skoal in his cheek.A red and black backpack was slung over one shoulder and a Sony _Walkman hung from his hip.A thin black cord was draped loosely across his front as it ran to the headphones around his neck.Shawn was wearing his usual camouflaged fatigue pants and khaki T-shirt and had a black and brown pack leaning against the wall near his feet.He looked clean-shaven today in contrast to the usual five o'clock shadow he normally sported on his mustached face.I humorously wondered what the occasion was.He turned around and shook my extended hand as I returned their greetings."Hey guys…what's up?"_

"Not too much," Randall responded, turning to spit on the ground under a nearby bush.I tried not to wince _too conspicuously, noticing Alisha pale briefly at the sight. Randall just shrugged and turned his attention to Shawn._

"Just going over some of the latest Ranma fanfics we got off the 'Net," Shawn said.He handed me a red folder."Here, check these out.There's a couple by Staik and the latest _DnR.There's this new one by someone named," he opened the folder and flipped through a few pages and pointed at a name, "Nibun Yuri.A good fic but Ranma dies in the end."_

"Great," I said, rolling my eyes."I can understand taking artistic license…but you know me, I'm more of the romantic 'happily-ever-after' type.I'll check 'em out anyway.Thanks!"

The handshakes again and a wave to Alisha, who waved shyly back, then they set off toward the library.Turning to Alisha, she had the beginnings of one of _those looks again."What?" I asked innocently._

"You and your weird hobbies," she said rolling her eyes with a smirk on her lips.

"Hey, you know me.I like to read.I'm pretty finicky when it come to what I read.I've been getting into fanfics lately, especially _Ranma ½.It's different and it's funny."_

"Whatever."She rolled her eyes again, just for emphasis.I commenced to poking and tickling her, to which she slapped at me twice and took off toward the Student Union entrance.Laughing to myself, I gave chase.


	2. Two

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Interlude: _Eye Catch 2_

_ _

Background Theme:_Life As Usual_

The Student Union was filled with the customary roar that usually accompanies a crowd of several hundred people walking, talking, laughing, shouting, scraping trays, scraping seats, opening and closing doors; the roar was almost waterfall-esque in its constant level of sound that blasted away at anyone entering the building.A quiet lunch at this time of day was not only unlikely; it was one of those things spoken of only in legends.

I elbowed my way through a crowd of students that stood around chatting near the beginning of the cafeteria line."Make a hole!" I yelled, reaching behind me to take Alisha's hand as I guided her though the crowd.Two of the girls in the crowd stepped back quickly, one glaring at me with a retort on her lips.The retort quickly died on those lips with the withering glance I cast her way as I strode through with Alisha in tow, who simply shrugged and smiled innocently at the girl.

"That wasn't very nice," Alisha scolded once we reached the line.

"They were in the way," I protested."They can pick some other spot to lolligag in."I smiled mischievously and chuckled."They should know better than to stand between me and a meal.Enough said.I'm hungry."Alisha smiled bemusedly to herself as I grabbed a tray, selected a couple of sets of silverware, and commenced to browse over the day's selection.

"What do they have?" Alisha asked, stepping up on tiptoes and looking over my shoulder to peruse the culinary offerings.The gentle scent of her perfume drifted over me.I paused to breathe deeply of her, allowing my mind and heart to wildly dance beneath the calm front I displayed.I turned my attention to the various selections, having come dangerously close to short-circuiting my brain with her close proximity.

"The usual – pizza, burgers, hot dogs, fries…oh, wait!Egg rolls, and there's some stir fry here."I pointed to a steaming tray in the middle of the _a la carte section."Woo Hoo!"_

"That'll work," Alisha echoed, eyes lighting up at the prospect of Chinese cuisine.

"A woman after my own heart," I said, chuckling softly.Alisha blushed and lightly whacked my upper arm with the bottom of her fist.

"Careful, Girl, or you'll be wearing it," I joked teasingly.

"You'd _better not," she shot back with a smile, but took a step back just to be safe._

I laughed louder and we moved further down the line.A couple of Diet Cokes and then the register, we looked around for an empty spot at any of the many nearby round tables scattered throughout the Student Union.I caught the eye of Liz Crawford, another friend of mine.She and a familiar-looking classmate were apparently going over some notes when she looked up, saw me, and beckoned us over.Liz leaned back demurely in her chair, one arm behind the backrest, showing off the gray-blue silk blouse she wore.She also wore a _very nice green silk skirt that was slit suggestively along one side, revealing the nylon tan of a thigh.The flirt._

I must have been looking too intently at this elegant display for I suddenly felt the weight of glaring eyes on the back of my head followed by a poke to my lower back.

"What?" I said innocently, turning back to see Alisha's eyes flare and brief hints of crimson flood her cheeks.

She ignored me as she stepped past me, taking an empty chair on the opposite side of the table and setting her books down noisily.

"What?" I asked again.

"Nothing," she said softly with a quick (_jealous?) glance toward Liz._

Knowing better than to pursue this line of questioning further, I pulled up a chair next to Alisha.Liz smiled sweetly and ran a hand through her short blonde hair."How's it goin', Vic?" she asked in that false nasal accent that reminded me of a cross between Fran Driesner and a New York cabby.It annoyed me to no end and she always got a kick out of it._Only from a friend, I thought to myself and let it slide.She had sat next to me throughout the Public Speaking class I had met her in the previous summer; I enjoyed teasing her over her Southern drawl and now she was paying me back in spades.__What goes around…_

Still, she had helped me get through that class by serving as a sounding board for the speeches I gave in class.She was a good friend, and quite a nice little package to boot.

I must have been dwelling a little too long or a little too strongly on that thought – my quiet appraisal was distracted by what sounded like "_Pig!" muttered under Alisha's breath.When I looked her way, she was daintily taking a bite of her egg roll and looking casually away.I mentally shrugged and turned to Liz._

"Not too much," I answered."Trying to stay awake in Lit class.Dr. Encio sat in for us."

"He's far too happy for my likes.And that habit of looking at you with that look in his eyes…like he knows something you don't or are about to find out unexpectedly." Liz quivered in her seat."Uncanny."

"I suppose.But I also hear he's had quite an adventurous life.Perhaps he's simply learned how to read people so he tends to be in on the joke before the punch line hits.Anyway," I leaned back, stretching, stifling a yawn; " I had trouble staying focused in class as it was.Didn't score much sleep last night;" glancing a sidelong look at Alisha, "some strange woman kept me up most of the night."I smiled.

Alisha looked at me and smiled haughtily, crinkling her nose and slanting her eyes as she stealthily kicked me in the calf under the table._Ow!_

"Smartass," she quipped.

"Your point?" I retorted, rubbing my calf.Alisha started on her fried rice and chicken stir-fry while opening her Ethics book.She chewed thoughtfully as she read through several passages, pointedly ignoring me.

Grimacing, an image in my mind of me sticking my tongue out at her then deciding the better of it, I settled for shrugging my shoulders in capitulation.

Liz's classmate, whom I remembered as Kelley, looked on in quiet amusement.Kelley had also been in my Public Speaking class. Most notable of his speeches had been about his favorite hobby, Scuba Diving.My ears were still ringing from the blast of air released from the air tank he brought for a demonstration.Light brown curly hair swayed as he turned his head back and forth from me to Alisha to Liz.

"Well, Liz, gotta blow," Kelley said as he hefted his moderately built frame out of his chair and stood up.He was a good head or so taller than my own five-seven."I'll swing by tonight to go over the rest of the study notes for Friday's test."

"What class?" I inquired, looking over toward the books Kelly was stacking and the notes he was organizing in a yellow folder.

"Stagecraft."

"Ah.Had that last year.Rusty got you started yet on your project?"Russell Gardner was a university adjunct instructor who taught a couple of Theatre and Music classes.He was also a musician extraordinaire who conducted the university orchestra.The Stagecraft Final Exam consisted of constructing a miniature stage set complete with props, lighting diagrams, and a cost analysis for putting together a theatrical production.I had taken it a step further and included a script from a one-act I had put together a couple of years before, along with costume designs a friend was kind enough to draw up for me.

"That's one of the things Liz and I were going over." Kelly picked up his books and folder, stuffing them into a purple-striped black backpack.

"We're doing a joint project," Liz chimed in."Antigone."

I cringed at the name of the famous Greek tragedy, remembering how our own production of it the previous spring had been plagued with its own tragedies."Well, break a leg," I said."Let me know if you need any pointers."

"Yes, Teresias," Liz said, grinning."You portrayed the blind prophet quite well," she added, teasingly.

"Whatever," I said with a small laugh."Catch you later, Kelley."

Kelley waved and walked through the dwindling crowd toward the exit.Liz watched him go, with a slight look of hunger in her eyes – hunger not satiated by the type of food I began digging into with gusto.I made a mental note to ask her about that later.

"So what do you two have going after lunch?" Liz asked, then started laughing as I tried to spear a piece of broccoli from Alisha's plate.Alisha responded with a quick jab toward my hand before I could succeed.I smirked mischievously back at her, eliciting another kick toward my leg.I moved my leg back slightly, causing her kick to overextend and hit her shin on one of my chair's legs.Alisha grimaced slightly then pouted as she bent down to massage her leg.I reached over and rubbed my hand across her back affectionately.

"Sorry, Sweetheart," I apologetically whispered to her.Looking back to Liz, I told her that I didn't have to attend my Voice Techniques class.

"The instructor is out of town," I continued."Thought I might do some reading."I held up the red folder Shawn had given me earlier.

"Ooh, ooh, let me see!" Liz insisted.I handed her the folder and let her read while Alisha and I finished our meal amid small talk between us.

"Not bad," Liz said when she finished."He dies at the end of that one," motioning to Nibun Yuri's fanfic.

"So Shawn told me.Don't spoil the rest for me."

Alisha rolled her eyes again.

"Hey, you don't have class this afternoon either," I said to Alisha."Good.I can lay some of this _weirdness, as you call it, on you."_

Looking at her watch, she said, "Okay, but just for a while.I've got somewhere to be at Two."

I pulled my watch from my pocket.It was missing its straps where I had removed them both after one had broken.It still kept perfect time and the little Flying Mario hologram on it still smiled away cheerfully.It read "12:43."

Liz glanced at her watch as well, then scooted back her seat.Standing up, she gathered her books together."Gotta head on myself," she said."I need to finish reading _Biatricci's Daughter before my 1:15 class."She reached over and patted Alisha's hand then clasped my shoulder."See ya'll later."_

"I'm surprised the two of you didn't start going out," Alisha said after Liz passed beyond earshot."You both seem to get along well with each other."

"I told you, she's just a friend."

"Uh huh."

"Do I hear a hint of jealousy in that voice?"

"I don't know what you are talking about." She looked away as she sipped at her Diet Coke.

"First you want me, then you don't.It's the same old story, Alisha."

"I told you, you only _think you love me.I'm just a convenience for you.Where were your feelings when you were seeing your last girlfriend?"_

I winced."That's not fair.You hardly had anything to do with me when you were seeing what's-his-face.I needed _something in my life, if just to have some feeling of normality.If you weren't willing, I had to find someone who was."_

"But you only pursue me when it's convenient for you.You'd just treat me as a stand-in until something else came along." She snorted and started getting her books together.

"Is that what you _truly believe?" I sat back, aghast."You know, you __may have allowed others to treat you this way.This __might be how you judge your so-called 'Track Record.'"Now I was getting quite irate."But don't you __DARE lump me in with them."_

"I'm sorry, that was harsh.It's just how I feel most of the time," she said softly, then shrugged."Besides, why would I be jealous?"She tried to fix a hard look on me, but a raised eyebrow on my part caused her to soften."I'm seeing someone else, you know that."

"Yeah, so you say.I think I'd be a much better match for you."

"Well, whatever…," she trailed off as her features softened further.She looked away momentarily, then turned back to me."Didn't you have something you wanted to read to me?"

I marveled at her attempt to change the subject.Considering it for a moment, I decided it would be best to go along with it."Yeah.These Ranma fanfics are pretty good.At least the ones I've read so far.Let's go out to the Tree."

"Okay," she said, looking at me for a moment as if lost in thought, then turned to head toward the side entrance we originally entered from, leaving me to hurriedly grab my things and follow her.I drained the last of my Diet Coke and hurled the aluminum can toward the trash receptacle just outside the door.It banged loudly on the inside of the far end, then dropped with a tinny _clank to the bottom.Another Class III throw, I thought to myself as I hurried to catch up with my Best Friend…and The Woman That I Was So Desperately in Love With._


	3. Three

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Background Theme:_You Don't Love Me Back_

"So what's this story Liz was mentioning, Biah-who's…Daughter?" Alisha asked as we walked toward the center of the grassy expanse that lay in the center of the campus grounds.

"_Biatricci's Daughter," I corrected.I looked at her askance."It's about this guy who is completely in love with this woman, an extremely charming, beautiful, and wonderful woman in all respects.Sound familiar?"_

She cast me a sideways glance and pursed her lips, then smiling slightly as she shook her head, saying, "Go on."

"Anyway, everything is perfect except for this one hang-up he's got about her.She has an imperfection, a minor blemish of some sort, I think.Rather than being happy with what he has, he is obsessed with making her perfect.Somehow the imperfection is removed.When it is, she disappears."

"Why?"

"Supposedly such beauty cannot exist on this world."I looked at her."I'm so glad you have your freckles,"I smiled."I can't imagine my life without you in it to make me happy and drive me to distraction at the same time."

Alisha smirked as she elbowed me in her toying way.

The Tree was a tall and thin oak with an exaggerated bend in it almost reminiscent of a Bonsai tree.The bend was probably resultant from years of winds from the nearby bay.As the bough bends so grows the tree, etc.I'm sure the occasional hurricane along the way didn't help matters, either, but the end result was a majestic and beautifully graceful tree that was comfortable to sit under with its grassy bed and provided a wide area of shade.An entire class of 50 or so students could sit there and enjoy the cool shade the Tree provided.

Happily, it would just be Alisha and I, save for a couple that lay quietly reading on the outer rim of the Tree's cover.Alisha set her books on the ground next to the Tree's trunk, placing her small handbag on top.She smoothed the underside of her jean skirt as she sat carefully against the Tree.I casually tossed my books aside, keeping the red folder in hand.I sat, cross-legged, facing her, after placing the folder in her lap.Picking up the folder and leafing through its pages, her eyebrows furrowed in consternation as she tried to decipher names, titles, and short summaries gleaned from her brief perusal.She smirked, closing the folder, and handed it to me.Leaning back, trying to get comfortable, she placed her hands in her lap and closed her eyes.The gentle breeze tugged lightly at the curliqued locks of hair that fell in front of her ears."Read to me, Vic," she asked quietly.

This was one of the things I most enjoyed doing with Alisha.She often told me she enjoyed listening to the sound of my voice – for some reason she would not explain, it gave her comfort.She even told me once that I had a sexy voice.She especially enjoyed sitting back, listening to me read to her the latest poem or short story I had written.It made me feel good to know I could pleasure her in this way.

"Well," I began, "first you need a little background.Do you remember anything I told you about the world of _Ranma ½ when I first started watching the anime?"_

Her eyes remained closed, but her brows furrowed again."Wasn't it about some cross-dressing kid from China?"This time I rolled _my eyes.As if on cue, she crinkled her nose and stuck her tongue out at me for a brief second._

"Don't stick it out unless you intend to use it," I leered suggestively.One delicate eyebrow cocked up, eyes still closed, her face taking on a "nyah nyah nyah" look and her tongue popped out again, this time for a few seconds longer and quite a bit more exaggerated.I leaned my right arm across her lap and carefully braced with it my hand on the ground next to them; I shifted my weight onto the side of my right leg and extended the left one, causing me to lean over Alisha almost perpendicular to where she reclined.With my left hand, I softly pinched the underside of her right thigh.She jumped out of her reverie and brought up her left hand to slap playfully at me.I quickly caught her wrist in my left hand and froze.I noticed how delicate and seemingly frail her wrists were.Her hands were slightly smaller than my own.I slowly played the underside of my hand against hers, matching them up and seeing how they compared to mine.Her hand was warm and slightly moist against mine as I closed it over hers.My eyes widened slightly as I looked up.Her eyes had widened slightly further.The playful tirade had brought our faces only inches apart.Her breath caught in her throat while I quickly tried to swallow my own heart as it attempted to beat a path out of my chest.An eternity passed as we looked deeply into each other's eyes, locked in our stares with a mixture of desire and fear.I began to notice that she wasn't letting go of my hand or compelling me to do so.I looked quickly away as she began to blush.The scent of her perfume drew my face back toward hers, causing me to look back into her eyes.A moment later, she looked down, then cleared her throat.She gently withdrew her hand, then picked up the folder I had dropped, handing it back to me.She then leaned back against the Tree and closed her eyes, quietly reposing again with her hands settled in her lap.

She sighed heavily but quietly, then smiled slightly, opening one eye quickly as she said, "Anyway, you were saying?"The eye closed just as quickly.

With mixed feelings I studied her face, sighed longingly yet softly myself, then opened the folder, setting it on her lower lap.

I began reciting what I knew of the history and storyline of _Ranma ½._


	4. Four

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Background Theme:_Don't Make Me Wild_

"The story centers around Ranma Saotome, a 16-year-old Martial Artist.Ranma has spent ten years on the road training with his father, Genma.The elder Saotome, ever mindful of increasing the challenges for his son on the 'Road to Martial Righteousness,' decides to journey with Ranma to a mountainous province in China that was home to the Legendary Springs of Jusenkyo.Jusenkyo, the Saotomes do not realize (ignoring their guide when he tries to explain), has attained notoriety that caused the Springs to be abandoned for training purposes long ago.They were abandonedbecause of the threat that lies in a little-known curse carried by each of the over one hundred individual springs.Each spring supposedly had its own "tragic" story of how something or someone drowned in it so many thousands or hundreds of years ago.The curse lies in the fact that anyone falling into the spring assumes the body of whoever or whatever drowned there.

"Being the reckless pair they sometimes prove to be, father and son begin sparring atop the many bamboo poles erected throughout the area, despite warning pleas from the Jusenkyo guide.Ranma succeeds in striking a blow that causes Genma to plummet into one of the springs below.To Ranma's shock, a huge panda comes leaping out of the water and lands with perfect balance upon the top of one of the poles.The guide shouts an explanation that a panda had drowned in that particular spring long ago, and that Genma is now subject to the Curse.Taken aback by this occurrence, Ranma is knocked off his perch into a different spring.When his head breaks the water, he realizes that "he" is now a "she," albeit an attractive and incredibly well-stacked redhead.They learn further that from now on, cold water will invoke the curse, but hot water will return the afflicted to their normal form.

"Father and son have several adventures during their return trek to Japan, where they arrive in Nerima – I think that's a village somewhere outside of Tokyo.Genma has sent word ahead to his friend Soun Tendo that he and Ranma will be arriving soon.Genma and Soun trained together in their younger years in a style of Martial Arts they refer to as Anything Goes Martial Arts." Alisha chuckled at what she felt was a slapstick name for a style of self-defense.It reminded her of some of the corny episodes of _Kung-Fu Theater she'd come across while channel surfing._

"Soun," I continued, "and Genma had made an agreement between themselves that in order to carry on the name of Anything Goes, their children would be betrothed to each other.Soun, a widower,had three daughters: Kasumi, 19; Nabiki, 17; and Akane, 16.Kasumi was the sweet, innocent, motherly type who pretty much took over taking care of the family after their mother passed away.She is portrayed as somewhat naïve but is always helpful and never has less than a kind word to say.Nabiki is the one with the strongest business sense in the family.If there's a yen to be earned in it, she's there.Akane is a bit of a tomboy, yet very popular with the guys at school…only she has no interest in any of them.The daughters' response to the impeding arrival of Ranma and subsequent engagement to one of them is, at best, with mixed feelings.

"Imagine then, to their shock, when the Saotomes arrive in their cursed forms.The truth, though, is eventually made known.Kasumi and Nabiki confer between themselves and propose Akane as the logical choice for Ranma's fiancee.Things between Ranma and Akane are off to a rocky start.The rest of the story follows the progress of their tumultuous relationship, hampered by their own pride and impatience, not to mention the interference on the part of suitors for both engaged parties.Ranma has also made an enemy or two along the way, and they show up at inopportune times to exact their revenge.

"Among these individuals are Ryoga Hibiki, a rival from Ranma's junior high school days who tries to defeat Ranma and dreams of having Akane for himself; Shampoo, a Chinese Amazon who is out to kill Ranma's female half while being in love with his male half; Tatewaki Kuno, Furinkan High School's (where Ranma and Akane attend school) Kendo champion; Kuno's sister, Kodachi, who wants Ranma at any cost.Then there's Ukyo Kuonji, a fiancee of Ranma's betrothed to him during childhood."Alisha's eyebrow went up at that one.

"Quite the Lady's Man, that Ranma," she murmured.She shifted again to get comfortable.

"Well, it's not all _his fault, but it does make for some zany episodes," I countered."That's __Ranma ½ in a nutshell.Over the years people have written stories, or fanfictions, based on this story line.Some take place during the storyline, some are continuations from where the plot line leaves off, and some are "Alternate Universe" or "Alternate Timeline" episodes.Some are comical, some are dramatic, some are romantic, and some are quite dark.In general, I have found most of them to be well written and very creative."_

"Now," I said, opening the folder, "let's see what gifts the Gods of the 'Net have bestowed upon us…"

The soft warble of a cell phone interrupted me.Looking around, I heard the sound again but saw no sign of a phone.Alisha popped open one eye, then the other, then leaned forward and reached for her handbag.I waited patiently as she extracted her phone, hit the _Receive button, then placed it carefully to her ear."Hello?Hey…" she said softly._

I raised a questioning eyebrow.Alisha looked at me, quickly shook her head, then turned her attention back to the caller.She looked at her watch."Now?"A pause."Okay.I'll be there shortly."She hit the _End button, then replaced her phone in her handbag.She looked up at me, paused, her face taking on a concerned look and her voice an apologetic tone._

"I'm sorry, Vic.I gotta go."She looked away.

"Everything okay?"No answer."What's wrong?"

"Nothing," she said, almost too low for me to hear.

"Don't give me that."I took her right hand quickly yet gently as she reached for her things."This is me you are talking to."I gave her hand a tender squeeze."What's wrong?"

Background Music:_You Don't Love Me Back (Redo)_

She looked down at her lap a moment.When she looked up, her eyes were beginning to well with tears.Her lip began to tremble.I thought my heart was going to explode out of my chest; I couldn't stand seeing her like this.

"What's wrong, Alisha?"

"Please, Vic…" her voice began to crack and she struggled harder to keep it under control."I can't talk about it now."A tear began to streak down the left side of her face.Holding her hand in my left one, I reached up with my right, cradling her cheek in my palm.I carefully brushed away the tear with my thumb and in one fluid motion, brought the back of my fingers down to tenderly caress her face.

"Want me to walk you to your car?"I asked.She shook her head, but appreciation flashed through her face.

"Okay." I said gently.I searched her face, her eyes, with concern."Promise to call me later, okay?I'm here.I'm here if you need me, okay?"

Alisha nodded, wiped at her eyes.I leaned over, put my arms around her, and held her for a moment.She stiffened at first, but then she relaxed as she returned my hug.She kissed my cheek, pulled away, and took my hand, squeezing it affectionately."I'll call you later, I promise."

"When?"

"I don't know.Hopefully not too late."She let go of my hand, and scooted forward to stand.I leapt up, giving her my hand and helping her up.I reached down for her things as she brushed off the bottom of her jean skirt.Carefully handing them to her, I reached forward and hugged her again, then stepped back, hands on her shoulders, studying her face again questioningly.

"I'll be waiting.Be careful, be safe, okay?"I said.

Alisha nodded quietly, again looking at the ground.Looking up back at me, she tried to smile, but the smile never reached her eyes. As she turned, a gust of wind blew her locks forward and her ponytail fluttered over her left shoulder.She reached up and flipped her hair back in place, then placed her right hand on her left shoulder, hugging herself in the brief chill that passed._No, not a chill, I thought to myself._

I watched her walk beyond the protective shade of the Tree, the rays of the afternoon sun enveloping her as she walked on, shade overtaking her once again as she entered the covered walkway that divided the Student Union in half.Again the sun embraced her as she exited the walkway and rounded a corner to the right, disappearing from view.

I don't know how long I stood staring at that corner.Whatever it was that had upset Alisha…_I wonder.A gear shifted in my mind, a heretofore missing piece of an unseen puzzle dropped into place; random perceptions lurking in the recesses of my mind until they were joined together by the common thread of an emotional response.She __had seemed a bit preoccupied lately.A bit aloof during our recent study sessions, come to think of it__.I wonder._

I sighed heavily, not for the first time today, nor did I expect it would be the last.I was extremely confused.Someone I cared for more than anything, or anyone, was hurting.For now, there was nothing I could do.I felt helpless.I _hate feeling helpless._

I sat next to the Tree, reclining as Alisha had done not long before.There would be nothing I could do for now except try to occupy my mind until I talked with her later.Dwelling on it would only drive me to distraction.I read through the stories, finishing with Nibun Yuri's _Akane no Ranma.Akane and Ranma finally confess their love to each other; their joy cut short when Ranma dies because a jealous suitor, in an attempt to remove the competition, takes a rash course of action that backfires. How tragic, I thought, that love finally realized and finally enjoined should be cut so short._

I set the folder down, leaned back wearily, and thought how often truth can become so much stranger than fiction.Closing my eyes as I relaxed, I thought of Akane and Ranma.I remembered Richard and Elisa from _Somewhere in Time, another tragic love story.I thought of my Love, my Darling, my Beloved, my Alisha._

Somewhere in my heart as I began to drift off I heard whispered words that blurred and faded the reality around me.

_Deux Machine._


	5. Five

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Background Theme:_So Long As You Realize_

The morning sun had risen high over the horizon from the vantage point I reached, hiking through a forest for what seemed an hour then up a hilly pass to a cliff.Here the ground gave way to a sheer drop, at the bottom a sandy beach stretched out in both directions.Several other cliffs could be seen with the occasional path leading down to the beach below.The vast expanse of blue-green water, sometimes taking on a glint of emerald in the curve of an incoming wave, glimmered like a billowing blanket covered in glitter.Light danced merrily across the sea's rippled surface; the wind buffeting in the occasional strong gusts that also carried the salty tang of ocean spray.

I took a seat on a nearby boulder near an outcropping of rock that continued to offer me a resplendent view.The crashing sound of the waves and the strong caress of the sea's breeze sent me back in time many years, perhaps ten.I thought of a walk along a boardwalk not far from a similar beach.Alisha was dressed in a similar jean skirt but with a red and white stripped blouse that favored her…at least _I thought it did.Not exactly beach attire, but it complimented my own jeans and simple woven shirt.She had spent quite a bit of time getting ready for our outing.She has always been a little self-conscious about her appearance, but I can't help but believe she put in an extra special touch for me as well.I remember how beautiful she looked that day.I remember how much I wanted to take her into my arms and hold her.I remember wanting to kiss her so badly that I thought my heart would beat out of my chest.I remember that being the day I decided I wanted her as my own.I wanted to ask her to marry me that day.If I would have had an engagement ring or a promise ring at the time, I would have asked her._

But the Fates were far from kind to me that day.The question was never asked.Not that day.Not ever.I quickly suppressed the flood of emotion that threatened to overwhelm me.From the depths of my heart, lyrics to a recent popular song flooded my mind…

If I could turn back time; if I could find a way…

Mysilent reverie was broken by the soft sound of air brakes in the distance.Behind me I heard the growing purr of an engine, growing louder as the source of the sound grew closer.Turning to look behind me, I noticed a mid-sized gray and red bus creep slowly up a paved hill, then turn on a dirt road continuing behind me and off to my right.I looked quizzically at the characters painted on the side of the bus.Whatever was written there was not English.What I initially mistook for a logo of some sort was actually the pictographic characters of _Kanji, one of the written forms of the Japanese language.I thought it extremely unusual for such a vehicle to be so out of place here.Perhaps they're foreign-exchange students, I thought to myself._

The bus stopped at what appeared to be a gravel-floored parking area.Behind the bus was a small covered pavilion that resembled the roof and outer framework of a nipa hut.Nipa huts were traditional Filipino homes built of wood for the house's frame, bamboo for the floors and walls, and a kind of woven thatch for walls and window shutters.Long, leafy branches of banana trees were dried out and used as the shingled coverings for these homes.On the concrete pad beneath the roof were several picnic tables arranged in three rows of four.A small waste receptacle stood at each corner next to the wooden columns that held the structure up.Small power outlets were mounted on the columns with a main power box mounted on the support in the far left corner.To each side of the pavilion were a couple of small buildings.The ones immediately adjacent to the pavilion touted the image of a man on the right one and a woman on the left, the universal images associated with the perfect place to relieve oneself in privacy.To the left of the women's restroom stood a smaller covered area with various snack and drink machines.The building to the right of the men's room resembled a small short-order kitchenette.Probably used only during the busier season of Summer, it was shuttered and boarded up.I noticed a faded sign near the closed order/pickup window listing various artery-hardening delights – at least that's what I assumed.My eyebrows furrowed together in confusion as I noticed the descriptions listed in…_Japanese?The prices were listed in Arabic numerals but instead of the ever-familiar and almighty dollar sign, I saw the "¥" of the Japanese yen.__How odd._

My attention was drawn back to the bus offloading its passengers out onto the gravel lot.I looked on in confusion yet again.Something didn't seem right about this picture.The bus was pointed to my left (once I had turned around on the boulder to give the scene my full attention).The passengers should have exited on the opposite side of the bus.

Okay, deep breaths.Reboot the brain here.Closing my eyes, and counting to ten, I looked and saw nothing had changed.Maybe this was some sort of setup to give these exchange students a small taste of home._Yeah – that's it.I tried to calm myself as I stood up and took a closer look around.__Wait a sec.There aren't any cliffs near the bay, not ones like these.I looked up.The sun was also in the wrong place.I took out my watch.It had apparently gone dead, but there was Mario, grinning stupidly at me as he flew, suspended, in the watch face's hologram.I knew it was morning, that much I was certain of, but facing the water at this time of day should have revealed the sun to be __behind me.Now I was really stumped.__Where the hell was I?_

About twenty or so very Japanese-looking teenagers departed the bus, carrying an assortment of towels, bags, backpacks, baskets, tape decks, swimwear, etc. – all the makings of a beach outing.Some of the students headed to the restrooms while others unloaded their belongings on the picnic tables.A couple of the girls in the group moved toward the vending machines, digging into small purses for change.

The approaching roar of a jet aircraft captured my attention as it swept across the sky, crossing the coast as it headed deeper inland.It slowly banked and traveled (_north?) along the coastline.As it did so I noticed on its wings a red dot I'd associated with old World War II movie depiction's of the Japanese Zero; on the aircraft's tail, clearly defined, was the red and white emblem of the Land of the Rising Sun._

Quickly, I closed my eyes and clicked my heels together three times."_There's no place like home.There's no place like home.There's no place like home…" I thought aloud.I opened my eyes.No change.The jet flew on and soon became a pinpoint that disappeared over the horizon.One of the students, a young girl of maybe sixteen, exited the women's restroom and picked up her things from a picnic table.As she exited the pavilion's shade, she stopped to stare at the spectacle I was suddenly making of myself.She was a short young lady, the budding evidence of adolescence well under way.She had short, dark, blue-black hair and huge, beautiful brown eyes.I found her quite cute in an unabashed sort of way.Her head was cocked to one side, eyeing me quizzically.She was dressed in a rather modest one-piece yellow bathing suit with a thick black stripe cutting diagonally across from shoulder to hip.She sported a blue and green towel over her shoulder, and sunglasses propped on her head.I waved sheepishly, sighed, then sat back down on the rock and faced the waters again.Shrugging with a smirk, the girl bent to pick up a basket, another blue and green towel, and walked toward one of the nearby cliffs.She stopped to peruse them, settling on one nearby that perhaps had an even better view than my own._

Most of the other students had made their way down a broad, sand-strewn path that led to the beach below to my right.Most of them spared me hardly a second glance as they spread towels, opened umbrellas, applied oils and sunscreens, and prepared for an enjoyable day at the beach.

Watching the small crowd with some interest, I noticed one of them detach himself from the rest of the group and walk off in my direction, passing below me to the left.He walked maybe half a mile before turning back in the direction he had originally come.This young man stood a little taller than I; I figured he was probably the tallest guy in the group.He had long dark, almost solid black, hair braided in a ponytail.He wore a simple yellow pair of swim shorts with a bold light-blue stripe down each side.He was of moderate frame, slender, and incredibly well-toned.He stared at the ground as he walked, deep in thought, occasionally kicking at seashells that had washed upon the shore and were scattered along his way.

Looking back to my right, I noticed the young girl setting up a tablecloth taken from the basket she carried to the cliff's top.She spread out several covered plates of food and set a large white thermos with yellow flowers printed on it to one side.Careful adjustments here and there, and then she stood up with a satisfied smile.Her face took on a hopeful look as she walked to the cliff's edge and looked down at the group below.A look of disappointment began to cross her face, then she looked down the beach in either direction.Spying me watching her, I waved.She waved back, then went back to her apparent search.All the students were assembling for what appeared to be lunch.Assuming the young lady was looking for the young man I had been watching, I pointed toward him when she looked my way again.Her face lit up in understanding.Smiling and bowing slightly toward me, she quickly made her way to the path and ran down it to the beach.Turning my gaze back to the boy, I noticed him reach down to pick up a shell…no, it looked flat and round.Maybe a stone or a sand dollar.He studied his find in a moment of quiet consideration.

The dark-haired girl called out to him as she approached._"Lanma!" it sounded like.__Lanma? Where had I heard that before?_

The lad quickly slipped the item into a pocket then waited as the girl quickly crossed the remaining distance in a slight run.When she reached him, she began to talk softly, too softly for me to hear the rest of the conversation.She pointed toward the cliff where she had set up the picnic lunch.The boy spoke, hesitantly, a brief hint of fear on his face that quickly disappeared as the young lady took him by the hand and led him across the sand to the path upward.Several of the other students called out to the young couple, seemingly in invitation; the two continued without breaking their stride up the path.The young man seemed a bit embarrassed.I noticed I couldn't understand a word of the one-sided exchange.It _sounded Japanese._

_No way.Absolutely NO WAY.I can't be in Japan!How the hell did I get here?_


	6. Six

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Background Theme:_Okay is NOT the Word_

The two youths reached the top of the cliff, the girl kneeling down on the picnic cloth at one end as she gestured in invitation to the boy.Kneeling tentatively, he looked over the offerings I assumed the girl had labored to make for him._How sweet of her to do something like that, I thought.__I certainly hope he appreciates it.A brief exchange began between the two, the lad in questioning tones while the young lady answered with what seemed to be measured patience.Seemingly satisfied, he sampled a few of the dishes.His expression belied his delight and he settled in next to the girl.The two continued their meal talking quietly save for the occasional outburst on her part in response to some apparent barb the lad must have uttered her way.I winced.__You idiot, don't ruin it!I thought back to my experiences with Alisha.Was I not appreciative enough to her?Did I not show it enough to her? I shook my head sadly to myself.Eventually they seemed to reach past their difficulties and passed the remaining time actually enjoying each other's company.I sighed inwardly.The silent reflections of an old song drifted to mind:_

_There're too many lovers, and not enough love;_

There're more broken hearts in this world than the stars above…

Sometimes all it takes is an understanding word or a gentle gesture to forbear conflict.I hoped the two of them would learn it.The young man especially.As much as I could see that they cared for each other, they were far too guarded.Such is the way of youth, I guess, although I can't remember it being that way with me.I've always been a sensitive, understanding, caring…

_Oh REALLY?A voice deep inside of me countered.A memory of a certain trip to a well-known theme park sprung to mind, one that began with Alisha and I having the time of our lives and ended with us saying hardly a word to each other.A memory of her pleading face overshadowed by darkness on the bus the last night we were there._

"Vic, we really need to talk," I heard, half-asleep, worn out from the day's events.

"Yeah, okay," I heard myself muttering before drifting off.

_So much for being sensitive._

What started the whole downhill slide was a playful hit with a pillow.She stood up, confused, and slapped me, thinking I was trying to embarrass her in front of my friends.I should have realized she was just nervous being around other people on the trip she didn't know.

_So much for understanding._

I could have saved myself years of grief afterwards by taking the simple step of apologizing, of telling her that I only meant to get her to lighten her mood because she was so nervous.I wanted her to have a good time.Instead I got angry.I decided I had had enough of her games; she would pay for it this time, and pay dearly.What an idiot I was.When I think of deciding moments that altered my life forever, that is one of them.Tears began to sting my eyes.

_So much for caring._

Alisha forgave me for what happened, and I think I could have salvaged things from the damage I had caused, but I only made it worse.I wanted her to step beyond her doubts, her constant wavering about whether or not to commit to a relationship.Upon someone else's advice, I gave her an ultimatum.Either we grew together or we grew apart.I thought it was sound advice.Maybe it was.Perhaps the time wasn't a sound time to do so.But it may be the last time I take someone else's advice.She chose the latter.My heart broke that day into more pieces than I could count.I didn't talk to her again for months.I needed time to heal, and perhaps she would come around after having time to think it over as well.By the time I talked to her again, she had met someone else.On that day my heart sank into a rift that tore into my soul and disappeared…for a _long time._

I wiped back tears that had begun to flow freely during the solitude of my introspection.Looking up, I was surprised to see the young couple actually kissing.I half-smiled, part of me happy for them, that _they could see past their differences;the other part of me wondered why I couldn't have done the same with Alisha.My Best Friend.My Darling Beloved._

_Oh, Alisha…_

I exercised discreet scrutiny and turned away; the two deserved their privacy and not being spied upon by me.I also needed to turn my attention to the circumstances at hand.Alisha would be waiting in that special place in my heart when I returned.Strengthening my resolve, I stood and walked to the edge of the cliff and surveyed the vast expanse of water before me.

_So.This was Japan.Not at all as I remembered it during my brief stay in Okinawa some years back, I pondered.My mind was still struggling with the mystery of how I got here.Somehow, though, I wasn't terribly worried.I didn't have so much as a suitcase or a travel bag.I wore a comfortable pair of khaki shorts and a white knit polo shirt.Calf-length gray socks, a black leather belt, and white leather deck shoes completed the ensemble.I decided to take stock and see if I had any other resources on hand.My left pocket revealed the existence of thirty cents in change and a small pocketknife.A set of slightly familiar keys on a keychain in my right pocket.I reached around to my rear right pocket and withdrew my wallet.My eyes widened as I opened the wallet.Let's just say I found sufficient cash to get by on…in both dollars __and yen.To my surprise I also found several __platinum credit cards.In __my name, no less.This was especially a shock since I don't own any and haven't used one in years.Oh, well…gift horse and all that jazz._

There was also a business card for some hotel in a place called Nerima; I did a double take._Nerima?Wasn't that the name of the area near Tokyo that the __Ranma ½ story took place?_

_Boing!My face suddenly did something that made it hurt quite a bit.I've heard of one's jaw hitting the ground but what I experienced felt like a far greater exaggeration, more like stretching in several directions at once.__A facefault, perhaps?_

A brief second later the pain ebbed and I rubbed my face.It felt normal, except my beard felt like it needed a trimming.When I finished coming back to my senses, I considered the business card again.Three _Kanji characters adorned the top of the card.I flipped it over and saw "Room 210" written on it – __in my own handwriting.I checked my key ring again.There was a key with that number stamped on it on one side, and three __Kanji characters stamped on the other.The characters were identical to those on the card.__Curiouser and curiouser.__Maybe I can find some an…swers…there…_

My mind suddenly went into overload and I felt a strange, almost electrical, surge go through my head.Shaking it, I looked around.I saw the couple.They were picking up their things from the picnic.When they were finished, they walked hand-in-hand toward the pavilion.I looked closer at them as they walked off.In their wake the remaining students had walked up the path and headed toward the pavilion themselves.They were talking excitedly and gesturing wildly at the couple.I heard the name again._Lanma.Things began to click.I remembered a friend of mine telling me that spoken Japanese reversed the pronunciations of the letters "R" and "L."That means __Lanma was actually __Ranma.Another name stood out.__Akane._

Holy Sh…


	7. Seven

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Background Theme:_It's Like A Dream_

After I recovered from my moment of intense shock, I took a closer look at the couple once they were faced once again in my direction.Their features were in no way the trademark exaggeration as in Anime or Manga, but I could now see a very strong resemblance.My gaze followed the couple as they passed under the pavilion, where they stopped to pick up small sports duffels that I assumed carried changes of clothing.They then walked toward the Ladies' restroom, where Akane, still holding Ranma's hand, said a few brief words then reached up to kiss him on the cheek.Smiling happily, she visibly sighed, turned, and entered the small structure.Ranma watched her disappear inside and, after a moment's hesitation, turned and walked in the direction of the Men's room.The other students in the group sat among the numerous picnic tables, chatting excitedly amongst themselves.About what was fairly obvious, despite my lack of understanding of their actual speech.The objects of their interest would no doubt facilitate a cornucopia of rumors.

I looked over toward the bus.The driver was carefully reclined, albeit somewhat uncomfortably, his head tilted back comically and snoring rather loudly.I noticed the sun had climbed rather high in the sky and passed overhead before I had known it.What may have been five or six hours judging by the Sun's position in the sky seemedto elapse as if they were only two.If the group was getting ready to leave shortly, as it seemed with more and more of the students exiting the restrooms having changed clothing, I decided that I might as well attempt to score a ride.I walked away from the cliff and down toward the gravel parking lot.The stone mix that made up the gravel's composition was packed fairly tight, hindering me only slightly as I _sscrunch-sscrunch-ed my way across to the bus.I tapped lightly on the window next to the driver, who awoke with a start.Rubbing his eyes and wiping at his mouth with his forearm, he looked over toward me and started again.Yawning and then sliding his window open, he poked his head through and looked at me quizzically.I'm certain I looked as out of place as I felt.Hopefully, it didn't show on my face too much.I scratched the back of my head for a moment in the universal sign of Uncertainty, all the while digging deep into my mind for __any smattering of Japanese I __might know.About the best I could come up with was counting to four, a few Americanized words, and terms from several different Sho Kasugi movies.None of these would be of any help except to make me look __extremely foolish.Deciding I couldn't embarrass myself any further than by just standing there with my mouth open (but nothing coming out), I took a deep breath.Looking at the bus driver, I let it out slowly.Taking another deep breath, I opened my mouth to speak yet again, hoping I wouldn't offend this gentleman by slaughtering his mother's tongue too badly._

"_Gomen.Wakarimasen.Nipon," I said, speaking as calmly as I could while at the same time trying to remember what Japanese I had picked up reading other fanfics, manga, and James Clavell's __Shogun.I hoped I was telling him that I couldn't understand, and therefore couldn't competently speak, Japanese.For all I knew, he could have interpreted it as anything from a greeting to an insult, or even being asked for a date.__Cringe._

I waited for a long moment as he took in what I said.He regarded me silently for a moment, pursed his lips, then smiled broadly and said, "S'okay, Joe!Nice you try though!"

I smiled back, relieved."You speak English?"

He laughed."I know little bit English.Big fan of many American and British sitcom.Also have many friends on Internet who speak English."

I was certain my face belied my pleasantly being surprised, as he chuckled again and asked, "What I help you with, Joe?"

"_Domo Arigato," I offered, bowing, hoping I wasn't exhibiting a disgraceful show with my lack of knowledge of both Japanese language and culture.Withdrawing my wallet from my rear pocket, I opened it and took out the hotel business card I had and showed it to him."Do you know where this is?" I asked._

"_Hai.Not too far from school."_

I paused a moment.I found I was pausing quite a bit lately."This school," I continued, "it wouldn't happen to be Furinkan High School?"

His face lit up."_Hai!You been there before?"_

"Not really," I shrugged, then smiled."Its reputation is, let's just say, rather widespread where I come from."

"Where that?"

"Oh, nowhere important at the moment."I looked the bus over, then turned my attention back to the driver."May I ride with you if it's along the way?"

He thought a moment, then said, "It not on way, but I take you as far as school.From there I tell you direction to hotel.Not far away from school, maybe ten, fifteen minute walk."

"Thanks a million!" I exclaimed, happily."How can I ever repay you?"

He looked down toward my still open wallet as I replaced the business card, turned his gaze to the covered vending machines, and then looked back at me.I could hear his stomach start to rumble."I forgot lunch," he said sheepishly."You buy me late lunch?"He smiled.

"You got it," I said, grinning, thanking him again.

Walking with him to the machines, he pointed out a pork bun in a refrigerated machine, a bag of pork rinds in a snack/candy machine, and a Coke from one at the far end.He patiently showed me which yen bills to use and made certain I obtained my change.At my request, he gave me a quick rundown on what coins were what.I then picked up a few items, deciding to try the pork bun as well.There was a small microwave oven built into one of the nearby machines that also had a recessed sink and tap water from a nearby well.I opted for a bag of chips, a Diet Coke, then followed the driver back to the bus.I took the seat immediately behind him and we ate in relative silence.Once heated, the pork buns were soft and warm, chewy with tender cuts of pork and a light gravy mixed in the center.It reminded me of _siopao, a similar dish I had sampled a few times during my stay in the Philippines.As we finished, we discarded our wrappers in a small wastecan under the driver's seat._

The students began boarding the bus shortly afterward.I was awarded an odd glance by most of them, especially by Akane, who had seen me on the cliff before.I waved and smiled.She nodded, smiling in return; then turned to Ranma, who boarded behind her, pointed to me, then said something as she motioned toward the cliffs.Ranma simply nodded and waved reservedly at me.They moved back further on the bus and took seats closer to the rear.

Once the bus was loaded, the driver stepped off quickly to check to make sure nothing or no one was left behind.He walked into the Men's room, then over to the Ladies' room; first yelling into the doorway then poking his head in. He jumped back as a young girl came running out of the restroom, trailing a travel bag and a bright red towel.She vaulted through the door onto the bus.Looking around for a seat, she knitted her brows together in disappointment until I motioned her over and offered her a seat next to me.Smiling, she stowed her things under the seat and sat down, wearily.Using her towel as a pillow, she leaned back and commenced to fall soundly asleep.

Satisfied that all were onboard, present and accounted for, the driver started up the bus' engine, released the air brake with loud a_psssshhhhh!, shifted into gear, and slowly pulled away from the pavilion.Turning off the gravel lot onto the dirt road, we drove a few minutes before entering a paved highway.We slowly picked up speed and headed back to Nerima._


	8. Eight

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Interlude:_Eye Catch 2_

Background Theme:_I Know What You Are Up To_

I awoke to the feeling of a damp tapping on my forehead.As I opened my eyes, the sound of falling rain hitting the ground and filtering through the branches above me began to fill my ears.A brief flash of light illuminated the clouds above the bay in the distance, followed a moment later by the crash of thunder.Momentarily disoriented, I looked around at my surroundings.My last memory had been of falling asleep on the bus as it rode on to Nerima.Now I found myself once again under the Tree.I had reasonable shelter from the rain, but that wouldn't last very long under the onslaught of the sudden thunderstorm.Quickly gathering my things, I jumped up and made a dash for the Library.

The library sat foursquare along the northwestern corner of the campus.Huge tinted windows that almost spanned the library's two stories offset the blinding white color of the building.Thrusting upward from slightly behind the top center, the university's clock tower stood majestically, displaying blue clock faces with white hands and numerals in each of the directions of the four corners of the earth.I made note of the time as I ran up the slightly ramped incline, walled on each side, leading to the main entrance.Reaching the shelter of the entrance alcove, I pulled out my watch.Mario glinted briefly into view as I turned the watch at an angle.When he vanished out of sight, I saw that the watch still worked.It read, "3:23."

Looking out across at the campus from where I stood, safe from further barrage by raindrops, I took in the familiar surroundings as I thought back to the seaside cliff where I had witnessed a fantasy world come to life.I felt the sting of disappointment cut through me.

It had been a dream.

It had felt _so real._

"Damn," I said quietly to myself under my breath._It was just starting to get interesting._

I sighed, adjusting my books in my hands, and turned toward one of the entrance doors.Stepping onto the triggering plate, the door slid open with a slight whir of motors as the relays engaged.I felt a slight wave of cold air pass over me from within the library lobby's air-conditioned interior.I stepped through the doorway and was completely engulfed by the chilly atmosphere, compounded in its drop in temperature by my slightly rainsoaked state.

The lobby was wide and spacious, a high vaulted ceiling towering overhead.To my left was a glass wall divided horizontally halfway up by the library's second floor.Lined up along the bottom of the wall were several coin-operated photocopy machines.Beyond them through the glass wall I could see rows of bookshelves displaying magazinesand Periodic Reference Guides.Furthest away from me was a row of microfilm and microfiche stations.Along the opposite side of the glass wall were desk cubicles housing Internet-linked computer systems.

A short set of stairs lay at either end of the glass wall, leading to the lower level of the library.Next to these stairs was another set climbing to the second floor.The library _was two-story, but the lobby floor was inset some five feet above the first floor._

To my right was an area blocked off by a counter that extended into the lobby about ten feet and partitioned off a section of the lobby about twenty feet along the right wall.This was the Checkout Counter/Reference Desk/alternate business register area.Behind me, to my left, was the handicapped elevator.Three rotating tower book display units were spaced evenly in the center of the lobby.

I crossed the lobby to the far set of ascending stairs, taking them to the second floor.Reaching the top, I took several steps forward, bringing me to the tinted glass windows at the rear of the library.I gazed out across the northern part of the campus and beyond to the bay.Immediately behind the library was a large parking lot, beyond that a two-lane road that bisected the rear quarter of the university campus.Another parking lot, edged on the far end by covered stone tables, lay further on, with grassy patches of ground that gradually gave way to a thin strip of beach.To the northeast stood the wooden structure of the university's open-air amphitheater.The stage was set up as an almost-perfect _Theater-in-the- Round.Diased seats rising up ten rows surrounded the twenty-feet diameter stage floor completely, save for small entrances at opposite ends and a quarter of the arc along the beach itself where the stage jutted out slightly over the water.One false step out there and into the drink you would go._

The clouds had gathered further in intensity and the downpour had increased drastically in the few minutes since I had left the Tree.In the parking lot below, the occasional car began pulling out of its parking space and exited the lot onto the two-lane road.Students unfortunate enough to be caught outside were running for cover, seeking safety from the elements under building overhangs or in their own cars.One poor fool strode calmly to his motorcycle.A well-worn leather jacket appeared to be his only protection from the rain.He donned his red motorcycle helmet, climbed aboard his bike, and brought it roaring to life.I could barely hear the revving of the small yet powerful engine as the hapless driver pulled out of the parking area and drove off, passing beyond the wooden amphitheater and toward the highway that bordered the campus' East Side.

Looking over my left shoulder, I surveyed the floor.Bookshelves lined the far left wall, extending up to a drop ceiling covering about a third of the floor.A small reading area was set up on the far side of the bookshelves with couches and several small tables.Smaller bookshelves standing about four feet high covered the second third of the floor along the center.Most of the Reference section was shelved here.The final third of the floor, that closest to me, was furnished with several large wooden tables in two rows, each with four to six hard wooden chairs surrounding it.On the opposite end of this row of study tables was a door leading to a small room intended for quiet study.This was my destination.Walking silently toward the door, I noticed several students seated at a few of the tables, absorbed in their varied studies with mixed interest.My trek across the floor to the other side earned me one or two spared glances before returning to their studying.Continuing on, I reached the wooden door; regarding the "Quiet Study" sign on the door, I peeked through the small window inset in it, grasped the doorknob, and opened the door.It swung quietly open on well-oiled hinges.Stepping inside, I noticed the small room was empty of any other occupants.I closed the door behind me.

In the center of the room were eight desk cubicles, two rows of four facing each other with a divider separating each desk.Along the two interior walls were long, low couches often utilized by napping students.Temptation was calling to me to indulge myself as well, but I had homework to attend to.Perhaps later.The two exterior walls that formed this corner of the floor were again composed of the translucent, tinted glass that made up the rest of the windows.Walking to a cubicle on the far end, I set my things down with a slightly dull _thwap.Hooking the chair with my arm, I dragged it out toward me and slowly sat down.I paused a second, then pulled out my World Literature folder and withdrew the homework assignment Dr. Encio had handed out._

My eyebrows shot up in surprise as I read the single line of text centered across the top quarter of the page:

_"Relate, from your own experiences, circumstances you would alter or correct if you had the means of implementing your own Deux Machine__."_

Oh, boy…


	9. Nine

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Interlude:_Eye Catch RANMA_

I stared for what must have been twenty minutes at the blank sheet of paper in front of me.How many times had I dreamed of all the things I that I wished I _could change, the events I wished I __could alter, the paths I __could have chosen.They fled me now.I propped an elbow on the desktop and leaned my head against my left fist as I continued to stare, allowing the page to blur in and out of focus.I could feel myself beginning to doze off again; as my head rolled forward on my fist, my temple met with something small and hard on my pinkie finger.The pain prodded me to full awareness and I sat up sharply.I looked at my hand, my eyes falling upon the cause of the temporary stab of pain._

I regarded the object for several minutes, thinking about its significance and the implications ownership of it had for me.I looked back at the blank sheet of paper before me, and with pen in hand, began to write.

Background Theme:_You I Love _

The air was filled with a damp chill that accompanied this cold, overcast day in late January.I began to realize that an unfamiliar anxiety was taking root inside me, threatening my peace of mind.A heck of a first day at my new school.I lulled over in my mind the possible sources of my uneasiness.

Being a military brat, most of my primary and secondary schooling had been at schools provided by the Department of Defense for military dependents.The high school I had transferred from, on the other side of the world, was also a DOD facility.I had spent my Freshman and half my Sophomore years there.Now it seemed I would continue, and perhaps finish, my high school career here.

This new high school that I was now enrolled in was a much older facility than other schools I attended.I preferred the new look and feel most DOD schools had, most having been built within a decade of me attending them.This school had probably been around some thirty or forty years at least.I didn't care for the "lived-in" look.The place wasn't run down by any means, nor was it a dilapidated dump;the school simply had a different environment – different from the ones I was accustomed to on a military installation.Absent was the clean, crisp, _orderly look I had grown used to._

I found myself beginning to suffer from a severe case of Culture Shock.I was a military brat.I had grown up around everything that looked, felt, smelt, tasted, and sounded _military.It was __familiar.It felt __safe.I knew my place in its structure.I knew what to expect in its environment._

There are a myriad of factors that work together to compose the look and _feel of any given place.Physical appearance is only __one of them.What made me feel even more out-of-place were the people I interacted with.Civilians.In my young mind, the term almost seemed like a derogatory slur.In retrospect, I find that mindset quite ironic, having been raised in an atmosphere that promoted tolerance and equality.That diametrically opposed ideas could rear their ugly heads and find refuge in my mind was unusual, to say the least.I really had nothing against civilians or the non-military subculture itself, but I felt like a stranger in a strange land.This new culture was completely alien to me.It felt like their modes of thinking were more two-dimensional.Again, looking back, it wasn't that my mode of thinking was more three-dimensional – the difference lay in the fact that their third dimension of thought and philosophy existed along different lines than my own.I found that rationale to be especially true when I shed my military roots years later, fully embracing civilian life._

Yes, this was definitely a bad case of Culture Shock.I was no stranger to it, though.I had endured it and survived, admirably in my opinion, when I moved to the Philippines at seven years of age.I adjusted, I adapted.Now I began to sense its inverse.

Knowing the source of the discomfort I felt, as I satwarming myself against the chill during the school's Lunch period, I sighed in relief.There would be a saying I would come to know in years ahead that I would apply to situations like these:_Now I know, and knowing is half the battle.Funny what one can learn from a cartoon.Knowing the source of my unease, I could now take arms against this invisible enemy that assailed the realm of my mind._

I leaned back on my seat, a thick metal chain that spanned the gap between two brick columns.I was careful to maintain my balance as the chain swayed slightly.Above me was the roof of the covered walkway that led to the school's auditorium.More chains were suspended between the remaining columns on both sides of the walkway, serving as a slight protective barrier to keep more inept individuals from falling off the concrete walkway and onto the ground some two or three feet below.A small set of stone steps was inset into the walkway halfway between the main building and the auditorium.The steps on the far end from me led to another covered sidewalk that ran between the main building and the Library; the steps nearest me led to a triangular-shaped lot where many students hung out in the mornings, between classes, and during lunch.Two covered walkways formed two sides of the triangle; one ran between the main building and the cafeteria, while the other ran perpendicular to the first, cutting between the cafeteria and the auditorium.A walled outcropping from the auditorium itself formed the third side.

I shifted my gaze, taking in further my surroundings.Students were milling noisily about; some were sitting, hunched over books; some were eating quietly from home-packed lunches (those refusing to brave cafeteria food) or snacks provided by nearby vending machines.Most sat gathered on the benches that lined the sides of the triangular lot.

I pulled my schedule out from a spiral-bound notebook and looked it over.Lunch ran between fourth and fifth periods for about forty-five minutes.My next class was German I, with a Mrs. Steuermann.I wondered how different she'd be from my last instructor.Don Cutler had the rare gift of infusing outrageous humor into his teaching methods.Looking at my watch, I saw that I had about five minutes before the bell would ring.Pulling out my Student Handbook, I looked for the classroom on the school map it provided.It was on the second floor of the building's southwest corner.I hopped up, adjusting my jacket zipper to shield me further against the cold, then strode silently down the steps, across the triangle lot, approaching the walkway adjacent to the main building and heading toward the double doors on the far end.

The bell went off with the shrill metal _cling-a-ling-a-ling I found to be universal in a dozen different schools around the world.I figured it would be crazy of me to fight this crowd as they crammed themselves through doors and stairways.Taking a seat on one of the lot benches, I waited for the crowd to thin.It was my first day at a new school, and being a military brat meant I had transferred to more than my share of new schools during the school year.In my experience, I found teachers to be quite lenient with transfer students who were late, especially on their first day.Besides, I loved nothing more than interrupting a class in full swing, enjoying the attention I knew would be lavished upon me as I joined my new classmates.There's something enigmatic and charming about a newbie, and I was going to drink it in.I smiled as I watched the last of the students disappear in the wake of the final strains of the tardy bell.Waiting just a while longer, enough to be fashionably late, I stood and headed toward class._

Interlude:_Eye Catch RANMA _

Karin Steuermann was a slightly tall and slender woman with short towhead-blonde hair and gray-blue eyes.Generally a kind, soft-spoken person, she commanded auditory powers that bordered on legendary.After introducing myself to the teacher and showing her my transfer paperwork, she turned to the class and announced that they had a new student joining them.

"Please introduce yourself to the class, Vic," she said with a slight smile.

I looked the class over, then smiled as I introduced myself, using the slightly uncustomary "_Ich heiße…" which translates as "__I am called…"I swore I heard a slight gasp of delighted amazement from the front row off to my right._

"He sounds _so real!"_

I looked over to the source of compliment.A young girl of about fifteen sat there, long dark brown hair with a slight curl spilling along her shoulders and down her back.Her mouth was alight with a smile that reached her beautiful hazel eyes.Her hands were folded on the desk in from of her, her fair skin a lovely contrast to the dark hair that framed her face.

From somewhere inside me, something awoke and took notice. _Woah!She's cute!I thought as my eyebrows hit the ceiling._

"Of course, Alisha," Mrs. Steuermann chided gently."That's what we all strive for."

Alisha slunk down in her seat slightly.I looked over at her and smiled.I don't know if she noticed it or not.I marveled at how pretty she was.I felt something inexplicable at that moment, one of those things one feels when Fate intersects Destiny, only it is rarely recognized the moment it occurs.It quickly faded but would resurface when I least expected it.

I turned my attention back to the rest of the class as they introduced themselves, using the form of "_Meine Name ist…" or "__My name is…"_

Satisfied, Mrs. Steuermann directed me to take a seat.I walked toward the middle rear of the class and took a seat at an empty desk there.I glanced over to the dark-haired damsel._Alisha._

I pulled out my folder and opened my newly-issued German textbook, turning to the page indicated by the teacher as the class resumed.


	10. Ten

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Background Theme:_Hijinks Ensue_

"Good Morning, class," Mr. Hiramatsu said as he greeted the gathered assembly of students from behind a podium.This morning's special session was being held in the school's auditorium, also housing Furinkan High's small theater.I stood in the wings, hidden from the audience's view, to the speaker's right, or Stage Right.From a small break in the curtains I peeked out and counted the students seated in padded, folding seats similar to those found in most movie theaters.Looked like about forty students, give or take a few.Hiramatsu continued to address the students; behind him was a large portable blackboard with several _kanji characters written vertically and a large satirical picture, drawn in chalk, that closely resembled a man with a small palm tree growing out of the top of his head.__Three guesses as to who that__ was…_

"As you all know, Furinkan High school has elected to participate in a Fine Arts Teachers' Exchange Program, bringing in instructors from around the world – individuals specially chosen for having little or no understanding of Japan, its people, or its culture.It is our hope that these guests will leave here with a better understanding of just who the Japanese people are, how we live, and what we are about.Their counterparts will return home, bringing with them a bit of the culture of their host nations, and serving to enrich our knowledge of foreign lands.As you may remember, Principal Kuno himself is quite an ardent supporter of these exchange programs -- this being most evident in his newfound love of the Hawaiian Islands, its people, and its way of life."

This last comment sparked a wave of grumbles throughout the assembly.Surveying the students further from where I was concealed, I noticed several familiar faces:Ranma, Akane, a few of the other students from the beach field trip; some of the others were vaguely familiar, the real-life faces translating oddly from the too-familiar anime looks I was accustomed to.Seated slightly to the rear of the center of the class was a tall young man with dark hair, garbed in the in the blue and black outfit of a samurai.Tatewaki Kuno, Champion of Furinkan High' s Kendo club, I was certain of it.Next to him sat a young lady about a head shorter than Kuno, with short dark hair that framed her face, the forward ends of her hair falling in a sharp point over the front of her shoulders -- that would be Nabiki Tendo, the middle of the Tendo sisters.She was busily scribbling away in a small black notebook, looking up from time to time to insure no one was looking over her shoulder as she wrote.

There were other faces.Gosunkugi was glaring in Ranma' s direction while twisting the arm of a small voodoo doll.Miyo, the young female mystic, listlessly twirled a Tarot card between the fingers of one hand while holding her chin in the other.I recognized theyounger form of the bubbly Miss Hinako Minomia, the auditorium chair she sat in swallowing her smaller form, listening attentively as Mr. Hiramatsu spoke.I didn't have names for the rest of the faces.

"Please give a warm _Nihao welcome to Mr. Vic Daniels from the United States!"_

Stepping out from the wings and approaching center stage, I stopped just short of the podium.I shook the speaker's hand and then turned to the audience, bowing slightly in greeting.Looks of surprise came over the faces of those I'd seen at the beach.Akane and Ranma exchanged looks; Akane whispered something to Ranma that was too low for me to hear.Ranma simply shrugged.

Slight chuckles erupted from the rear as one of the students, the class clown perhaps, leapt onto the armrests of his chair, posing in the classic "Crane" stance from _The Karate Kid and muttered something that sounded like "__Hoi, Daniels-san__!"_

The laughter was short-lived as a small, rectangular object arced through the air, skipping across the top of the head of one of the disruptive students, and pegged the offender squarely in the middle of his forehead.A white powdery cloud began to envelop the student's head as the blackboard eraser dropped quietly to the floor.The jokester fell back into a chair in the row behind him with a loud _oof!His legs were splayed comically over the backrest of his original seat._

I had once read an article in _Reader's Digest when I was much younger that classified three types of throws.__Class I throws were those casual tosses that mattered little whether they hit their target or not.__Class II throws were throws requiring preparation and skill, like those of a baseball pitcher or a football quarterback.__Class III throws were those, on the rarest of occasions, quickly made – without forethought, without warning, at the right time, hitting the right place, for the best of desired effects._

The class turned to look at the hapless lad then returned their gaze collectively toward the front.I was clapping the remaining chalk dust from my hands, smirking as I did so._When in Rome..._

"You'll fit in nicely, Vic," Hiramatsu said as he turned from the podium and clapped me on the shoulder, flashing me a mischievous grin.He walked off, disappearing behind the wings to Stage Left.

Taking the podium, I took a deep breath, then began to address the assembly.

"As Mr. Hiramatsu mentioned, I'm an exchange teacher from the United States, specifically from the State of Florida.Along with teaching Theatre over the next two semesters, I'll be directing a few plays as well.Most of you will have the opportunity to audition for these shows, assist in planning the productions, help with stage construction, and provide technical assistance during the actual performances.

"I understand there are several talented individuals here today who already have a play or two under their belts."Most of the class turned to look at Ranma, Akane, and Kuno.Akane blushed at the sudden attention, Kuno assumed a striking pose, and Ranma propped his head on his fist, elbow resting on his chair's armrest, indifferent to the student's appraisal.

"I've heard a variety of reviews on Furinkan High's production of _Romeo & Juliet."More groans."Now, now," I chided, " I'll help you go over the good and not-so-good points of that show, and help you to improve on them in preparation for the upcoming productions.I can even," casting a winking glance toward Akane and Ranma, "give you tips on better ways to fake a stage kiss – without using tape."_

The class broke out in laughter as the young couple blushed a nice hue of red.

Nabiki raised her hand. "Yes, Miss Tendo?"

Suppressing the slight look of shock that started to come over her face, not understanding how I knew who she was, she lowered her hand.

"Daniels-_sensei," she said politely, trying to suppress a nervous grin._

"Yes?" I responded, smiling, never imagining I'd _ever be addressed as "sensei"."Please continue."_

"Exactly what shows will the students be undertaking over the next two semesters?"

"That's a good question."I regarded the audience for a moment."I haven't quite decided yet, to be honest.Depending on how we progress, I'd like to do at least three shows:one Shakespearean, a comedy, and a musical.I may make the Shakespearean one a part of the ongoing class projects I'll be assigning and substitute it with a Greek Tragedy.We'll have to wait and see for sure.

"Seeing that the last show done at Furinkan High was a Shakespearean Tragedy, I think I'll start with something a little more light-hearted.Are any of you familiar with Moliere?"

Blank looks and shrugs gave me my answer.Undaunted, I continued.

"Moliere was a seventeenth century French playwright.Especially known for political and religious satires, Moliere was often at odds with the political and religious establishments of the day:the French Monarchy and the Roman Catholic Church.Considered one of his more outlandish – by the Church blasphemous – and certainly one of his most hilarious satires was that of _Tartuffe, also known as __The Impostor._

"Written in the mid- to late 1600's, _Tartuffe is primarily a religious satire that also pokes fun at the concept of Piety.It addresses, mostly, the issue of religious hypocrisy.The play is centered around Orgon, a well-to-do gentleman seeking to turn to a life of piety in order to make up for a squandered youth.Enter Tartuffe, a sinister con man who Orgon unwittingly takes in.The villain plots to rob Orgon and his family of their fortune, their home, and tries to convince the naïve gentleman to take him as a husband for his daughter._

"You'll learn more about the play once we cast the roles and begin rehearsals.For the musical, I'm considering _The Man of La Mancha, based on Miguel de Cervantes' mad Spanish knight, Don Quixote.I may change the setting from the sixteenth century Spanish Inquisition to the seventeenth century medieval Japan, but most of the elements will be essentially the same.For your consideration, a mad Samurai in place of the loony Spanish knight."__And I know who will fit the role nicely, I thought to myself, casting a knowing glance toward Kuno._

"And, if time allows, I'd like to introduce you to the classic Greek Tragedy, _Antigone."I paused for breath, then asked, "Does that pretty much answer your question, Miss Tendo?"_

Nabiki smiled and nodded, satisfied.


	11. Eleven

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Background Theme:_So Long As You Realize_

Waking with a start, I lifted my head from the desk, wiping away the slightly sticky drool that dampened the outside corner of my mouth.Fortunately, I had not been asleep for too long as I didn't have to clean any off the desktop.Leaning back in my chair, stretching to loosen stiff muscles, I yawned and rubbed my eyes in an attempt to further force myself awake.

Looking back to the cubicle, I noticed several sheets of paper, pushed aside when I laid my head down on the desk to rest my eyes for a moment.Pulling out my watch – _Yeah, Mario…GO AWAY – I checked the time._

"Five-forty."

I leaned over to look out the tinted windows.I could still make out the dim disk of the sun as it slowly slipped past the tall, slightly pointed roof of a pavilion near a local nightclub just down from the University.The thatched roof, reminiscent of the one I had seen on the beach near Nerima,faded slowly to black as it became silhouetted against what remained of the sun's brilliance.

Straightening in my seat, I scooted the chair back and stood, slowly, my body protesting the prolonged posture I had assumed during my brief nap.Yawning again, I reached down to pick up the sheets of paper I had written upon and glanced over what I had written.I had laid the groundwork for the assignment by giving a little background on how Alisha (I found out her last name was Riordan, and that she was one grade behind me) and I had met, and what our early friendship had been like.I didn't go into a lot of extreme detail, but what I _did write sparked a flood a flood of memories, the brief pages I had written priming the pumps of my memory._

About two weeks after joining the class, Ms. Steuermann moved me to front-most corner seat, near the classroom window and right next to Alisha.Despite the fact that we argued and fought like cats and dogs, I began to like her even more.Perhaps it was her feisty spirit that appealed to me._It still does, I thought with a smile._

I recalled the first time I had ever called her.Searching through the phone book, I had been willing to call every Riordan on the page until I found the right one.There were about ten or so listed, but I lucked out and got her on the third or fourth try.Needless to say, she was surprised but perhaps a little flattered as well when I explained to her how I got her number.

About a month or two before school ended, I wrote her a notetelling her of my interest in her, accompanying it with a white (or was it pink?) carnation being sold at the school that day.That same afternoon, following a pep rally, I almost ran into her rounding a corner outside the gymnasium.She seemed rather nonchalant about the encounter and I worried about what she might have been thinking.In truth, I think she hardly gave it a second thought at the time.She did tell me much later that she had appreciated the gift but wasn't certain how to take the note.

Summer arrived, and we lost touch, but I still thought of her from time to time.My Junior year of high school arrived and I enrolled in Air Force Junior ROTC.One day in late November I was pulling Desk Duty (sort of like an office assistant, greeting and assisting visitors to the school) when a very polite middle-aged woman entered the lobby, explaining she was picking up her daughter for an appointment.After directing her to the appropriate office, I went back to my desk and resumed back to my studies.To my surprise, the lady returned with Alisha in tow.We exchanged greetings and she introduced the visitor as her mother before the two of them left.I pondered meeting her again but didn't pursue the thought too deeply as I was dating someone else at the time.

That particular relationship, actually my first real dating experience, ended the first weekend in December.I spent most of my time in the wake of the break-up trying to mend my young broken heart.I was now also trying to find a date for the upcoming Military Ball in March.I was a cadet officer, and my parents felt it just wouldn't do for me to go stag.

One day, as I sat out among the other students at the "Triangle" during lunch, I noticed Alisha sitting on a nearby bench.After a little light conversation passed between us, she shocked me by asking me why I no longer called her.Not really having an answer for her, I promised her that I would remedy that situation immediately.In fact, I started calling her again that day.My brain must have been sent into overload because I didn't even think to ask her to the Military Ball.I had mentioned both the Ball and Alisha in the same conversation to my aunt one day in late January, and it was she who made the suggestion that should have been obvious to me by that time.All I could do was slap my forehead and start reaching for the phone.

The rails along the way of the path my train of thought was taking began to destabilize, threatening to derail my deep musings as my subconscious tried to get my attention.Apparently polite knocking had failed and my Id, Ego, and Super Ego joined forces to nag incessantly at the back of my mind.I stopped momentarily and thought._What was it?_

I mentally snapped my fingers._The Dream.The one I had started while dozing under The Tree had continued, picking up perhaps a day or two later from where it left off.I didn't recall any events in between, but apparently I had gone from being a lone stranger (an incredibly well-heeled one at that) to being a foreign exchange teacher.How convenient as well that I was a Theatre instructor.I had only attained my Associate of Fine Arts the year before and was __at least two years away from being able to do what I was doing in the dream.I chuckled to myself.I guess that's why they call them __dreams._

Looking back at my homework assignment, I sighed as I carefully placed them in my Literature folder and slowly gathered my things.It was getting late and the night students would begin arriving shortly.If Iwas lucky, I'd also be catching the back half of Rush Hour traffic back to my apartment.The assignment wasn't due until next week, as today was Wednesday, and the Friday class was canceled.Dr. Jensen would be back for the Monday session.That gave me plenty of time to finish it.I figured I'd work on it a bit when I got home, filling the time while I awaited Alisha's call.

_Alisha.I furrowed my brows in consternation as I contemplated her brief but emotional response to the phone call she received.Alisha was a very modest person, especially when it came to her emotions.Had it been anyone else around at the time, I'm certain she would have erected a façade of steel, keeping it in place until she was in the relative safety of privacy.I was probably the only person outside of her family she would drop her guard with and allow them to show through.I found it ironic that, as she had admitted to me once, she could never seem to allow herself to become vulnerable in that way to anyone she dated.I wondered if that had anything to do with why she wouldn't respond to the attentions I gave her._

I stood once more, stretched again, picked up my stuff and left the room.The library was fairly deserted on the second floor; a few students milled around in the lobby and Periodical section of the first floor.Stepping out into the early evening air, I noticed it was beginning to take on a less damp yet crisper feel as the leading edge of a cold front began to move in.It was probably the culprit behind the intense rain earlier this afternoon.Continuing down the ramped walkway, I turned right at a four-way junction between the library and the Business building and headed toward the Fine Arts building.

I had an odd ritual I'd perform at the beginning and end of each day at school.I'd stop in and peek into the auditorium where the University's stage was just to see what, if anything, was going on.Usually the auditorium was pitch black with only _Exit signs illuminating the darkness when there was no one around.Sometimes I'd wander backstage to the dressing rooms, sometimes to the rehearsal rooms off and behind Stage Right.Most of the time, though, I'd stand at Front Center Stage, looking out across the empty seats of the auditorium; I'd stand there, relaxed, meditating and thinking; sometimes I would remember classes I attended, performances I had participated in, and friends I had made there on that stage.For some reason, it always left me feeling with a bittersweet feeling that I couldn't explain._

Tonight, the University Orchestra was rehearsing for a performance on Friday afternoon.Rusty was engrossed in conversation with one of the musicians, but waved briefly when he noticed me poke my head in through one of the sets of double doors.I waved back and, deciding not to bother him, retraced my steps back to the lobby.I glanced briefly at the large Student Art exhibit that was on display, then continued through the lobby to the main hallway and across _it to the exit.I turned toward the north end of the building, walking along it to the parking lot beyond where I parked my car in relative seclusion.This older section of the parking lot, patched over in various areas where potholes had formed, was usually empty save for nights of performances at the auditorium.It was almost guaranteed that I could find a parking spot here, and almost always the same one._

I reached into my pocket for my keys, unlocked the door to my vehicle, and slid carefully inside.Placing my things on the passenger seat, I closed my door, started the engine, and pulled out of the parking space.Turning on my lights, I pulled out onto the dividing road I had observed from the library earlier and headed home.


	12. Twelve

Chapter 

Chapter Twelve

Background Theme:_Born to Love You_

As I sat back in my comfortable chair near the living room window, I looked up into the night sky.Despite the rain of the day the clouds had cleared away significantly to allow for a beautiful view of the heavens.Off the right corner of the window, as I faced the south-southwest, I could see the moon beginning to crest at its highest point.Slightly more than three-fourths full in phase, its pure luminous light filtered through the branches and leaves of the trees just beyond the window, adjacent to my to my second-story apartment.I could hear, in the distance, the occasional dull roar of a jet aircraft as it left or approached the airport some two miles away.

In front of me, along the two-foot wide portion of the recessed south wall containing the window was a small table on which stood a one-and-a-half foot high by slightly more than two feet wide compact disc display unit.Constructed of unvarnished but well-sanded white pine, the unit had rectangular cubbyholes that each held two CD's each, altogether holding ninety-eight of them.The unit had been a gift from a friend about five years ago; it was one of a few items that escaped the ravages of a terrible hurricane that had hit the Gulf Coast in 1995, doing untold damage to the beach area.

As I looked the titles over, the names of songs jumped unbidden to mind, the melodies softly playing as I remembered times and events associated with them.Images of faces from my past and present faded in and out of conscious thought as I glanced above the unit, where a smaller CD case sat with another thirty jewel cases, their spines displayed horizontally to allow for quick and easy reading of the titles.Leaning forward in my seat and reaching out with my left hand, I ran my fingertips over several of the spines, stopping at one near the bottom of the first row.Released during my Senior year in high school, Chicago's album _Chicago 17 had become one of my all-time favorites.Especially dear to me was the beautiful yet bittersweet ballad __Remember the Feeling.The song, strongly based in piano with slight touches of synthesizer and guitar, depicted a reminiscing dreamscape of memories of the singer meeting and being with the love of his life.The happy dream resolves into melancholy with the realization that meeting her, knowing her, and being with her -- was all a dream._

I have often compared the song to my endless quest to win the hand and heart of my Beloved Alisha.So many times I had come _so close, reaching out to take hold of her at last, to take her hand and take her into my arms -- only to close my hand around thin air and embracing emptiness in her wake.It brought to mind words from __Man of La Mancha's "To Each His Dulcinea", a heart-rending but sobering account of what happens when a man lives far too long with dreams of attaining the love of a woman:_

_If you build your life on dreams, it's prudent to recall_

_A man with moonlight in his hands has nothing there at all._

Far too sobering, yet I'd be damned if I was going to give up.Love makes for the most resilient and enduring of fools.At least I was _her fool._

I turned my attention from the collection of music to the digital clock resting on the couch on the opposite end of the living room. The couch ran parallel to the north wall that bordered the kitchen.Behind the center of the couch I could see through the kitchen and beyond the sliding glass door on the far end onto the darkened balcony.Often I would walk out onto the balcony, especially at night, and gaze at the sky.I always took time to face the Southwest, casting my gaze, my thoughts, and my heart in the direction of where my Beloved lived.

I looked again at the clock.

"9:33," it read.

I was beginning to worry.Alisha and I talked almost nightly, and if we weren't hanging out together she'd normally call around eight o'clock.The only exceptions were on weekends since that was the only time she usually got to see _The Jerk, who lived in the next town about an hour away.This was Wednesday, and he had the nerve to infringe on my time with her.I was seething.I was livid.I wanted to do irreversible and permanent harm to his personal being._

_Irascible cur._

_Peevish peon._

_Splenetic swine._

Okay, maybe I was being a bit harsh.I had nothing against him, personally.That is, if you don't count the fact that he had the attentions and solaces of the woman I loved.My anger and frustration was almost so tangible I felt I could blast holes in the wall with my thoughts alone.

_Petulant bastard._

Of course, I was jealous.

Isn't that _obvious by now?_

I made a conscious effort to calm myself.The call Alisha had received this afternoon had visibly upset her.I knew that he _had to have been the one who called.This scenario was not completely unfamiliar to me.Alisha simply had been more adept at hiding it from me --or so she might have thought._

Alisha and I share a bond that almost borders on supernatural.The regular incidents of well-time calls or comments made at the appropriate times, not to mention frighteningly accurate dreams of even the most intimate nature; restless hours of the night that often coincided with the other's sleeplessness.We are so in tune with each other it's hard to put anything past the other.To her, I know I am an open book.And I know I am right about things with her far more often than she's willing to admit.Far too many things make for far more than uncanny coincidences.Over the last few years I've actually begun to believe that we might actually be Soul Mates.I don't think Alisha or I have fully realized the implications of that belief, but we are finding out more with each passing day.

I was quickly brought out of my reverie by the insistent warbling of the phone.


	13. Thirteen

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Background Theme:_Awakenings_

"Hello?"I asked breathlessly as I answered the phone.As I had leapt out of my chair in a mad grab for the phone, I tripped over the line's extension cord, causing it to tangle around my leg.Pulling on the cord would have ripped it out of its connection at the wall socket – the last thing I wanted to do was lose my phone connection, especially tonight.I had to carefully disentangle myself and get to the phone before the voicemail picked up on the third ring.

I made it just in time, interrupting the warble of the fourth ring.

"Hey," came the soft, melodic voice in response; it then took on a quizzical tone as she inquired, "Why are you breathing so hard?"

"Just me being a clutz.Tripped over the phone cord and about broke my shin against the coffee table going for the phone."

"You just ain't right," she replied with a chuckle._That was her way of saying that I was a few fries short of a Happy Meal._

She sounded really happy as we talked, nothing at all like my saddened love from the early afternoon.This was _odd._

"So, what's the good news?"I asked, hesitantly.

"Good news?"

"Yeah.You sound awfully excited about something."

"Well, I guess you ought to know, being my best friend and all."She screamed with delight as she exclaimed, "He asked me to marry him!"

I could feel myself starting to go numb.My voice was barely a whisper of disbelief as I managed to ask, "He…_what?"_

"He proposed to me!" She squealed again happily.

I began to have an extremely tight feeling in my chest, and my stomach started to knot."And what did you say to him in response?"I choked, each word an effort to speak as they slowly came out.

"Why, I said 'yes', of course.I just can't wait!I've gotta tell my family, start the planning…he's talking about a honeymoon in…"

Her voice began to fade from my hearing as the sudden realizations started kicking in.I set the phone down softly.I could still hear the slight buzzing as she continued to talk, oblivious as to my lack of presence or attention.

My vision began to blur as tears stung my eyes.I stood up, careful as to not trip over the phone cord again, tripping over it anyway, and walked to the kitchen, turning out the light as I passed through it to the sliding glass door.Unlocking it, I slid it quietly open, feeling the cool, humid night air flow over me.Walking to the balcony railing, I grasped the top of the rail with both hands, suddenly feeling the strength go out of my legs.When I could stand again without the rail's support, I turned my face to the night sky.

The heavens were cloudless, but devoid of any stars.Even Luna, in her resplendent glory, was no where to be seen.The relevance of this was lost on me as I put my face to my hands, elbows supporting me on the rail, and wept bitterly.

*******

I am uncertain how much time had passed.When I came back to my senses, I stood up and cleared my eyes.The podium top was stained with what I surmised were tears that had flowed freely down my face.They formed a puddle on the floor behind the podium which trickled away from the podium, down the stage, into the orchestra pit in front of the stage.The pit, about thirty feet across along the stage, fifteen feet wide as it projected into the auditorium, and about twelve feet deep, was about a quarter filled with the liquid sorrow that continued to trickle forth.I blinked hard and did a double take.I was back in Furinkan's auditorium.That meant…

_Alisha's call never happened!_

The orchestra pit began filling faster with the tears of joy and elation that spouted out of my eyes with the realization.By the time I stopped, tiny waves were lapping at the top of the walls of the orchestra pit.I walked to the edge of the stage and stared in amazement._What is going on here?My brain began doing somersaults as it tried to adjust to the strange occurrences taking place.I looked around the dimly-lit auditorium, empty save for my thoughts and I._

There was a slight _plop-ping sound as a speckled koi broke the smooth waters, leaping about three feet up out of the pool of tears, flipping gracefully on its back as it plunged headfirst into the waters.As I watched the fish slowly disappear below the surface, looking on in shock, another realization hit:_

_This was all a dream!And I was awake, but still dreaming!_

I've heard of dreams where the dreamer is not just an unwilling and unwitting participant, carried along with its currents like a leaf that has fallen into a stream.In these dreams, the slumbering dreamer awakes within the dream and finds that he can not only become an _active participant in the dream, he can actually influence and direct the course of the dream.I've experienced this kind of dreams a few times.The first taste of it was a dream where I was battling a demon.My alarm clock had gone off and was slowly pulling me into consciousness.I did not want the dream to end unresolved, so just before I awoke, I hurled a huge fireball at my adversary, shattering it like a mirror into a million pieces.Needless to say, I awoke that morning feeling __great._

The first _significant experience with it was in a dream where a mad gunman was chasing me through a huge white house.As I ran out the front door, I realized that I was dreaming, and that I was awake during this dream.This being the case I decided that I'd be damned if I was going to allow some idiot in __my dream, who was a figment of my sleep-sodden imagination, to chase me with the intent of harming me in any way.Not in __my dream.Not when __I could control it.Turning to face the house, I confronted the madman.As he raised the gun to shoot me, grinning maniacally, he was suddenly surprised to discover that his hand was empty.Not only was it empty, but __I was now holding the gun, and was in fact pointing it at __him.Naturally, he turned tail and ran in stark raving terror.With newfound confidence and courage surging through me at my accomplishment, I tossed the gun aside and rose into the air.Flying off into the night sky over a nearby forest, the dream slowly faded into consciousness._

I had one other experience with this sort of dream…but let's just sayit can't be mentioned in mixed company.

What I _did discover in these dreams, though, is whenever conscious control is exerted, __immense concentration is required to hold the dream state together.The body's natural inclination is to awake upon the resurfacing of awareness.Overriding this natural response, as with overriding most other natural responses, requires an intent mind focused __singly on maintaining the illusion of the dream._

In this dream I often found myself simply flowing with the dream, exercising control over the passage of the dream only when I wanted to nudge it in a particular direction, create a desired effect, or to make a spectacular point.The latter was most evident in the incident where _Monsieur Class Clown was quickly introduced to __Senior Eraser.As with anything, though, practice makes for perfection.The more often I could assume this state in dreaming, the better I could become at maintaining and sustaining the dream._

Following the meeting with the students my suspicions about my sudden change of residence and change in station caused me to suspect that things were far too good to be true.As I experienced the flash-changes in scenes and out-of-the-ordinary events taking place, I saw my suppositions confirmed.

Careful to avoid slipping into the orchestra pit, I knelt down at the edge of the pool.I gazed again at the waters, cautiously observing my reflection in the dim light.Without warning, one of the stage spotlights suddenly came on.The warm, blinding light flowed over me, causing a dark shadow to be cast upon the pool's surface where my reflection had been.To my left, another shadow was cast, indicating one other presence slowly, quietly, approaching.Turning to look over my shoulder, I saw a familiar outline, shoulder-length hair spilling over soft shoulders, eclipsing the bright spotlight shining down from above.Slowly kneeling behind me, she extended a hand, gently brushing tousled hair from my eyes and softly caressing my cheek,Her palm warm on my face, Alisha's voice spoke softly and tenderly, the slight yet wistful smile on her lips.

"_Wake up, Sleepyhead," she whispered._


	14. Fourteen

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen 

Background Theme:_Born to Love You_

With a bewildered look, mingled with the sleepy haze of the recently awakened, I took in my surroundings.The room was slightly illuminated by a tall, thin black lamp that stood against the far wall, to the left of the doorway to the kitchen.The lamp was topped with a reflective bowl; most of the soft light was cast upward, toward the ceiling.The lamp's design allowed most of the glow to spill over in a cozyambiance throughout the rest of the living room.The on/off switch, a small, round, brass dial that controlled the lamp's degree of brightness, was located on the lamp pole halfway up, its control switch turned to the lowest setting.

Slightly silhouetted against the gentle radiance, Alisha was seated on the left armrest of my couch chair, her right arm extended for support along the top of the backrest, her left hand reaching for me to gently caress the right side of my face.The tender touch of her fingers was slightly warm against my skin, cooled by a few hours of air conditioning as I had slept.Carefully turning my face to meet hers, she whispered reassuring words of calm, mindful of the confusion of my slumber-sodden wits.As I became fully awake, I noticed her gaze shift to my temples, becoming a look of quizzical concern, observing where the tracks of my tears had flowed into my sideburns while I had dreamt.My head apparently had lolled back while I slept in what must have been a completely comical display of snoozing.I could imagine an almost anime-ish scene of me with my mouth wide open, my tongue hanging out to the side, and a snot bubble fluctuating in size as I breathed in and out.I self-consciously wiped at my nose and side of my mouth, thankful to find evidence, or the lack thereof, to the contrary.

Shaking the image from my head, I looked again at Alisha.The inquisitive gaze linked with something in her mind as a question began to form on her lips.I gently reached up, placing a forefinger over her lips."Shhh," I shushed."I'm okay."

"Why have you been crying?" she asked insistently.She softly traced the track of a stray tear that had slipped across my cheek and down to my chin before it had dried.

"It's probably just allergies," I lied.I rubbed my eye briefly, wiping away any remnants and to distract myself from the growing awareness of just how close she was sitting to me.It was very difficult considering the lingering scent of lotion on her hands and a touch of perfume on her wrist.Damn.

"Then why are your eyes so damn red?"

I closed my eyes briefly, sighing, as I secretly relished the tenderness of her touch.I opened them again."Don't worry about it," I said with a bit of finality.I sat up.She withdrew her hand, sitting back herself on the armrest."I was waiting for your call," I continued."I didn't expect a visit.Not that I'm complaining, though," I grinned as I stifled a yawn.

"I bet,"she replied."What am I going to do with you?"

"Anything you want?"I replied hopefully.

She shook her head."Mmm, mmm, mmm."A hint of a smile began to tug at the corners of her mouth."I spoil you too much, you know," she whispered softly.

"Yeah, yeah."She had begun caressing my cheek again, almost absentmindedly.I took her hand in mine, looking at her for a long moment."So, what's up?" I inquired.

She returned my gaze for a few seconds, smiling wistfully as she squeezed my hand slightly, then quietly stood and moved toward the small entertainment center I used for my television and VCR.She picked up her keys (among them a spare one to my apartment that I had given her) and purse from the top shelf where she had first set them, and walked toward the kitchen opening, stopping at the door to turn the deadbolt.The small keyring she held in her left hand had a small, plush, mischievously-grinning Garfield swinging in small arcs from the rest of the keyring as she turned back toward the kitchen, setting her purse and keys with a _clink-ing jingle on the kitchen counter.Pulling a tumbler from one of the upper cabinets, she poured herself some iced tea from the refrigerator, replaced the tea pitcher, and returned to sit on the living room sofa.Her back against the far armrest, she stretched her legs a bit, arching her back as she got comfortable.Settled, she then drew her legs closer, almost to her chest.Taking a sip of her drink before carefully placing it on the carpeted floor in front of the couch, she wrapped her arms around her legs, setting her chin on her knees.Gazing down toward the floor, she had an absent look in her eyes, a look she often got when she had a lot on her mind and was either trying to sort it out – or leave it behind._

Too often I tend to mistake her composure as a sign of ease; I was beginning to realize that her calm mood was, in a word, deceptive.I noticed an almost imperceptible wince as she withdrew further into thought.

Raising an eyebrow slightly, I stood and walked quietly over to the sofa, sat down, swinging my legs up to sit cross-legged as I sat facing her, a close yet respectable distance between us.I knew in times like these it was best to wait until she was ready to speak.

Examining her face closer, I saw her eyes were slightly unfocused as she looked across the top of her knees in silent retrospection.Though she had done her best to repair the damage, I could see telltale traces of tears that had made their mark on her cheeks; the eyeliner that attractively lined her lower eyelids was slightly smudged from what seemed to have been repeated attempts to wipe away tears.

Continuing to watch patiently, I noticed shadows of one emotion wax, then wane, into another as they crossed her face in a slow but continuous movement, much like watching shadows on the grass cast by passing clouds fade in and out with the clouds' movement across the sky.It seemed she was battling with herself -- not only over what had happened since I had last seen her -- but with how to put it into words.A battle I couldn't quite tell if she was winning or losing.

"Alisha?"

She glanced up suddenly, a somber look on her face; her gaze shifted back down just as quickly.I reached forward, taking her chin in my right hand, and lifted it gently.She would not return my gaze.

"Alisha?"

No response.

**"Look at me."**

Her eyes flicked up to meet mine, then quickly fell down and to the side.Her chin began to sink again as well.Her lips drifted downward in a heart-rending display of despondence.Her knees dropped, placing her in a cross-legged sitting position, her hands resting lightly in her lap.Alisha continued to stare down, her eyes locked on her hands.I took one hand in mine while softly placing the palm of the other against her cheek, my thumb softly brushing the area under her eyes and along her cheekbone.I could feel anguish building within her, translating outwardly in a warm flush that began to appear on her face and neck.In one gentle motion, I swept my hand in a tender caress across the side of her face, sweeping back long, dark locks of hair that had fallen forward, combing my fingers through her soft hair as I did so.The locks smoothly tucked behind her ear, I slowly brought my hand along her lower jaw, the back of my forefinger tracing the delicate curve of her jaw line.Curling my fingers under her chin, I carefully, but firmly, lifted it up again, silently compelling Alisha to meet my gaze.

Her eyes made contact with mine, and for a brief moment -- through the mirrors of her soul -- I could see the darkened sea of confusion that clouded her heart.Uncertainty clung to the depths of her tormented spirit, and despair that raged within her finally began to manifest in a welling, then a thunderburst, of tears that began to fall from her eyes.Her lips began to tremble under the strain of holding back so much emotional duress.

With a heartrending sob that tore through me to the very core of my being, she fell forward, her face burying itself in my chest.Taken aback, I had fallen backward, my arms encircling her as I fell into the sofa, my head coming to rest on the sofa's cushioned arm.She seemed not to notice as her body shook in fits of sobbing.Finally, she let loose an anguished cry that was only slightly muffled as I held her to me.Her right hand balled into a fist that hammered into my chest several times as she let loose everything that had built up.I held her tighter, trying to will every ounce of emotional fortitude I had into her to bolster her own courage (my chest would also be extremely sore come morning, but I'd get over it).I spent the next twenty or thirty minutes holding her, caressing her, whispering what words of reassurance I could, suppressing my own confusion and anger.Confusion as to what had happened…I could only imagine.Anger…I wanted to rend into pieces whomever or whatever had hurt her.

Eventually, the crying slowed and the sobs ebbed away; she had cried herself to sleep.Nuzzling and stroking her hair, I looked up at the ceiling.There would be time for answers later.

For now, I relaxed, and allowed sleep to take me, curiously content as I held Alisha in my arms.


	15. Fifteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen 

Background Theme:_Business As Usual_

"For your consideration:a man, humblest among men.Come, join me as I journey through the realms of dreams.See him:thin, somber, yet his eyes are ablaze with naïve idealism.He has become weary and tiresome of Man's malevolent ways toward his fellow man; he is driven, almost to a sort of madness.In this incoherent haze, he contrivesthe strangest endeavor ever conceived:no longer a mere country gentleman, he is the bravest and most valiant of Samurai, venturing forth into the world righting all wrongs.His name:Don Quixote de La Mancha!

"_Heeeeaaaarrrr me now, oh thou bleeeeaaak and unbeeeeaaarrraaable world, thou aaart…"_

"Thank you!That will be all for now!Next, please!"I looked over to my assistant and newly appointed Stage Manager, Nabiki Tendo, sitting quietly next to the portable sound system at downstage left.Her hands were covering her ears and an unpleasant grimace showed on her face.I nodded at her.She quickly reached over and hit a button, gritting her teeth followed by a discernible sigh of relief.

An audible _click could be heard as the cassette player disengaged, followed by the soft garbled __squeeble of the cassette being rewound to the beginning.Bowing slightly, Gosunkugi reached behind his head to scratch nervously, a slightly embarrassed flush coming over his features.The hapless student auditioning for one of the lead male roles had much going for him in means of movement, projection, and delivery of the monologue preceding the musical's opening number, but he needed quite a bit of vocal training to improve his singing ability.About several years' worth.To be attempted __after he finished going through puberty.I had to commend him for his effort, though.I would probably cast him in one of the non-singing roles.Gosunkugi disappeared into the crowd of students waiting excitedly for their chance to audition._

I sighed and shook my head.My theatrical endeavors had initially been plagued with delays for several days.Furinkan's student body had showed scant interest in the first of the shows I had decided to undertake:_Man of La Mancha.Transposing the story from its original setting in Cervantes' medieval Spain to Japan's locale during the wane of the golden years of the Samurai proved to be a monumental task in itself.__Artistic License describes the playwright's prerogative in making minor changes to the original storyline to suit the production's setting.I was better off composing my own script from scratch, but to do so would rob the students of experiencing the moral intent behind the story of Cervantes' mad knight.I made changes here and there where it would suit the story, but in the end it differed very little from the original stageplay._

The license I was taking was very much in the same vein as a show I did many years ago.King Creon, Antigone's antagonist in the renowned Greek tragedy, wastransformed into a Cuban dictator in a setting following the Bay of Pigs; the Greek Chorus consisted of three card-playing old geezers sitting around under a small pavilion, looking up from time to time to spout their cryptic lines.I figured that if my theatrical mentor could get away with _that, I should be able to engage my Japanese audience in a similar suspension of belief when __La Mancha, muleteers, and the __Golden Helmet of Mambrino held no place in their culture, mythology, or history._

That was the least of my concerns, though.I needed performers.A few of the students came to the first couple of auditions.Decent talent, but not quite lead-role material.In my mind, I had already pre-cast several of the roles.Tatewaki Kuno, of course, as Cervantes/Don Quixote; Akane Tendo as Aldonza/Dulcinea; and Ranma Saotome as Sanson Carasco/The Great Enchanter.Getting them to agree to their respective roles was another thing all together, as was filling a number of equally important roles that needed superior talent.I decided to go on the offensive and solicit help from an unlikely source:Nabiki Tendo.Checking with a student aide in the Administration office, I discovered that her next class was on the school building's third floor.I found the nearest stairwell and headed upstairs.

The middle Tendo sister was deep in conference with one of her cohorts ina secluded corner between a wall of lockers and the Girl's restroom.I patiently and politely waited behind her, just out of earshot, not wanting to intrude on what I assumed was another of Nabiki's financial ventures-in-progress.Her back was to me, so she never saw me approach.Her companion was a young lady probably the same age as Nabiki, with chestnut hair and plain but not unattractive features.Leaning forward, her intent expression was focused on whatever Nabiki was telling her; her dark eyes darted up and to the side for a second, her head turning slightly to look down the hall.When she returned her gaze toward Nabiki, her eyes passed over me and widened slightly as she quickly straightened up.Nabiki, a scowl on her face as she wondered who dared to eavesdrop or interrupt her conversation, straightened up just as quickly.Her features became neutral, perhaps slightly embarrassed.

I smiled and bowed slightly."My apologies, Miss Tendo.I didn't want to interrupt your conversation, but I had a favor to ask of you."Looking toward her companion, I smiled hesitantly."My apologies to you as well, young lady.I didn't mean to startle you."

"Oh, that's quite all right," she said, bowing deeply."I was going anyway."She nodded slightly to Nabiki as she turned and walked away.

Nabiki respectfully bowed her head slightly toward me, her composure regained."_Sensei.How may I be of service?"_

"Well, we've only a moment until the next bell rings.Why don't you and your two…"lieutenants"…join me at _Uchan's after school and I'll tell you all about it.My treat."I chuckled."I hear her okonomiyaki is legendary."_

Nabiki raised an eyebrow."Indeed.A favor, neh?"She said, smiling."Your offer of refreshments is most welcome.Just bear in mind," she continued, slipping into her business mode and shaking a finger in my direction, "I don't come cheap."

"After school, then?" I asked.

"We'll be there," she replied, bowing as she turned to leave.I watched her walk away for a moment, looked at my watch, then turned and headed back toward the auditorium on the first floor.As I turned down the central hallway, I overheard three students talking in slightly hushed tones:

"Did you hear?They _kissed!" one girl almost shouted._

"You're kidding!When did that happen?"a young man uttered in disbelief.

"Not so loud," a hoarse whisper interjected a third, female, voice. "On the field trip.To the beach."

I stopped dead in my tracks as I disappeared, just around the corner, out of sight of the conversationalists.I about-faced and bent down, dropping to one knee.Pretending to tie a shoelace, I closed my eyes to shut out any distractionswhile I listened intently.

"…when they were off by themselves.She made him lunch and everything."

"Woah.You don't think…"

"What about Shampoo or Ukyou…or Kodachi?Do they know?"

"They'll have a fit!"

The conversation downshifted to a quiet buzz as they moved away, further down the corridor.I stood up, feeling a disquieting mood of _déjà vu settle over me.The beach field trip.The place I where I first remember appearing in Japan.Akane and Ranma…their private picnic.Their brief, yet passionate, kisses.This was sounding all too familiar._

Shaking my head, I turned back toward the stairway I had ascended and continued my quiet musing.The events at the beach and, _now, the hushed whispers of secret romantic interludes…something about all this was gnawing at the back of my mind, a revelation trying to escape the confines of my subconscious.The sensation bordered on that of having a word or a name on the tip of one's tongue and a sense of growing frustration that usually came with such a mental block._

The growing noise of a brewing commotion intruded on my thoughts as I approached the wide anteroom where the hallway ended, the door to the stairwell being located on the opposite wall.I could see several students gather in the middle of the chamber, talking excitedly among themselves, looking and pointing at something that was occurring off to the left side of the foyer, out of my line-of-sight.I increased my pace, walking closer to the right wall to give me a better view as I reached the opening to the foyer.The double doors were propped open with rubber wedges placed between the bottom of the doors and the floor.Standing with my back to the opened right door, I looked on in shock as I took in the scene.

Between two large windows built into the antechamber's left wall, a short, young Chinese girl with dark, almost black-blue hair, was holding Ranma up against the wall with strength that was belied by the young lady's stature.Ranma held his hands up, palms out in front of him, in a defensive posture, frantically trying to calm his adversary down.The girl was about sixteen or seventeen, by my guess, and dressed in pinkish-lavender slacks and an overblouse, both of silk cut in traditional Chinese style.Slippers of a matching hue adorned her small feet, up on tiptoes as she held her prey in place.Her small fists were balled up, clutching handfuls of Ranma's shirt.This attractive, petite package of fury could only be one person:Shampoo.

A moment later, a dark blue blur flashed past me, the metallic glint of a large, flat-ended spatula flashing briefly as another young lady appeared in front of me, the spatula in full swing.Ducking quickly, I avoided getting hit as the spatula missed its intended target, the Chinese girl, who leapt clear of the weapon's arc, somersaulting backwards and landing with nimble grace on the other side of the room.The spatula was imbedded in the door, mere inches above my head.A familiar line jumped, unbidden, to my mind.

"_I'd recognize that spatula anywhere…"_

And _that must Ukyou Kuonji._Dressed in her trademark boy's school uniform from her days at an all-male school, she stood about half-a-head shorter than I…well, when I was standing.Ukyou pulled her weapon clear of the door, her dark brown hair – held in place by a white ribbon – swung behind her as she spun and advanced on Shampoo's position near the foyer's right wall.

I quickly stood up and cast a glance in Ranma's direction.The young lad had been unceremoniously dumped to the floor when Shampoo vaulted clear of Ukyou's attack.As the two girls began a heated exchange, Ranma scrambled to his feet, dusting himself off.Looking back to the arguing pair, Shampoo gestured wildly toward Ranma, then leapt up to the ledge of one of the opened windows.Ukyou spun on her heel, closed on Ranma, tears streaming from her eyes.Ranma's eyes widened with an "_oh, no…not again" look of fear on his face as the brunette grabbed him by the collar and slammed him up against the wall._

"You let her KISS you?" she cried between sobs."YOU JERK!"

Again the spatula swung, half-heartedly, yet hard enough to connect with Ranma's torso and fling him, outstretched, against the wall.Ranma grimaced with pain, letting a tortured moan escape his lips as he slid to the floor.Ukyou rushed by me, sobbing as she left the foyer with alacrity.

Much of the incident had gone by too quickly for me to comprehend what had been said, but from Ukyou's accusation, I now understood what it was all about.The taking of Akane's lips would not come without a price being exacted from him.

Challenging Ranma loudly from her precarious perch, Shampoo glowered angrily, the scowl marring her otherwise attractive features.

"This not over yet," she said in halting tones."I make Akane pay for what she do."

Leaving the threat hanging in the air, she twisted on her feet, springing out from the window, arms outstretched.She somersaulted once halfway down, landing with remarkable ease on the ground three stories below.

Ranma slowly picked himself up, regaining what was left of his dignity, and vaulted out the nearest of the left wall's windows.

The crowd quickly disbursed, chatting excitedly amongst themselves.Some were speculating what Shampoo's threat meant.Most thought she was going to challenge Akane to a duel.Some blew it off as just another jealous ranting of another of Ranma's numerous fiancées.Unfortunately, I now fathomed, with complete clarity as the final mental block fell away, how this confrontation was going to end.There were too many similarities, too many coincidences, to many instances of _déjà vu.Yes, I knew without a doubt how this would end._

With Ranma's death.

_Not if I can help it._

I crossed the empty antechamber to the stairwell door, taking the steps quickly as I headed back to the auditorium.

Somewhere, distant words began to whisper across time and space.

_Deux Machine._


	16. Sixteen

Chapter Sixteen

Background Theme: _The Wind Rides on Wings_

_Think, Vic, think!_

My mind raced desperately as I considered my options, returning to the auditorium to gather my things before I left Furinkan High. Shampoo was out for blood, and her misguided actions about to be committed in anger were going to have more serious repercussions than she realized. In _Akane no Ranma_, Shampoo passes a powder of some sort to Akane that ends up poisoning Ranma instead. The question was, _when_ was she going to do this, _where_ was this to take place, and _how_ was Shampoo going to do it? The story itself was unclear on how it happened.

_Wait a moment. The Story?_

I began to feel dizzy for a moment, and haze began to surround me as I realized…

_I'm dreaming! I'm dreaming the story again! The last thing I remember is Alisha; I remember her crying herself to sleep in my arms. Now I'm here. It's only a dream. Damn! I'm starting to wake up!_

I began to feel a pressure against my chest. Alisha, breathing softly, as she slept in my arms.

_Let her sleep. I'm needed here!_

The haze began to merge, forming a dense, bright fog that I recognized as the beginnings of consciousness. I felt myself begin to, figuratively _and_ literally, rise toward awareness. If I did not do something soon, I would be awake in moments.

If there's one thing that bugs the Holy Bejesus out of me, it's an unresolved dream.

_STOP! _I screamed forcefully to myself.

_ FOCUS!_ I concentrated on my surroundings, willing myself to remain "rooted" where I stood at center stage. I concentrated on the one detail that had not been obscured – the podium. Slowly, I began to descend back through levels of consciousness until my feet touched the stage. I brought my hands in front of me in a meditative gesture, lacing my fingers together, palms touching, my thumbs and forefingers extended and touching as well. Looking over the tips of my forefingers, I narrowed my eyes, gathered all my strength, and felt the vertigo subside as I began to reweave myself into the dream.

With some difficulty, I began to walk, haltingly, to the podium. My conscious mind, not used to existing in the dimensions of a dreamscape, continued to tug at the edges of my awareness. As long as I concentrated, though, I would continue to remain a part of the flow of this dream. Gripping the podium tightly, I focused harder on the visual details -- the smells, the sounds, the _feel_ -- of the dream until the vertigo and dizziness subsided completely. Glancing up, the details of the auditorium slowly returned to normal; the seats, the doorways, the spotlight to the rear of the upper balcony, everything, I found resolving into much sharper focus. I breathed a sigh of relief as I felt the flow of the dream continue normally.

Turning my thoughts to the matter at hand, I pondered my next course of action. How far had the original story timeline been thrown off being interwoven into my own dreams? Did it really matter, since this dream was a creation of my own imagination? It had been early afternoon when the confrontation between Shampoo and Ranma occurred. According to the story, Ranma dies that same night. Whatever the feats of plot maneuvering I had planned, I only had a few hours at most to put them into practice. I smirked to myself as the threads of a plan began to twist and tie and interlace themselves together in the recesses of my mind. Shampoo, for all her skill and expertise at martial arts and the deviousness she has shown herself capable of, hasn't quite proven herself to be the brightest of people when her emotions got the best of her. Maybe I could use that to my advantage. My impending meeting with Nabiki would be doubly fruitful, if she would agree to an additional request.

As if on cue, my watch beeped a quiet reminder of the end of the school day. I glanced down at the watch face, admiring Mario in his state of carefree flight. Of course, this being a dream, his hologram was a bit more animated than normal, with his winged hat flapping wildly and his already exaggerated smile taking on _chibi_ proportions. I supposed if I willed it, he'd fly right off my watch. Mario seemed to be looking back expectantly. I chuckled to myself. "Sorry, Lad…perhaps another time."

Looking across the auditorium one last time, I turned and walked to the end of the stage, quickly descended the small set of stairs at stage right, and left through the main doors to the rear.

A light breeze fluttered through the trees near the Furinkan's main entrance, kicking up dried leaves in a tiny dust devil. Afternoon skies delivered a slight haze of sunlight that filtered through the branches, casting shadows across the campus' main walk. Reaching the outside gate, I stopped and looked left, right, then across the street, perusing the possible routes I might take. To be honest, I wasn't quite sure where _Uchan's_ was located, but I knew just the person who would – and judging by the noisy female ruckus approaching me from behind, he and I were about to cross paths.

Ducking around the campus wall to my left, I listened, my back against the wall, hoping I was going to time this right. Fortunately, a telltale _"What a haul! What a haul!"_ gave his position away. I stuck my foot out slightly just as a brown and gray blur zipped past the corner. The blur struck my foot lightly, but enough to cause the racing form to fly headlong into the street with a surprised _"Whaaaaa!?"_. The mob of indignant young ladies, armed with everything from clubs to brooms, set upon the hapless Happosai with determined relish. After pounding and grinding the licentious little lecher into a limp _La La Land_, the girls retrieved a large bound bundle Happosai had been hauling and victoriously toted it off in the direction of the school gymnasium. I smiled, shaking my head, not feeling the _least_ bit guilty over my behavior.

Shaking his head groggily, the antiquated Master of the Founding School of Anything Goes Martial Arts slowly stood as he regained his wits. Upon discovering the loss of his precious lace and cotton prizes, his face set into a hard grimace. Looking quickly around, his battle aura began to glow a bright red as his searching eyes fell upon me.

"You! It's your fault! How DARE you! Feel the wrath of the Ultimate Final Attack of the Anything Goes School of Martial Arts! Happo Fire…"

_SMACK!!!_

"Ow! What the…? _Woah_, what a beauty!"

One fault in most of the Ultimate Final Attacks from any Martial Arts School is that the user seems compelled to announce it for about thirty seconds preceding the actual attack. Happosai's particular spiel had granted me sufficient time to reach into that Nether Dimension (where such things as Akane's Mallet, Happosai's Fireburst Bombs, and Genma-Panda's signs come from) and pull out a pair of fine lace panties of such excellent quality as to send this particular fetish hound into ecstasy. It also helped that the light scent of a sweet-smelling perfume emanated from the undergarment, which Happosai immediately took notice of the moment I smacked him alongside his head to disrupt his attack.

"Consider it a consolation prize, Master Happosai," I offered. "I'm sorry to have resorted to this measure to get your attention, but I am in need of your help." I introduced myself, explaining to him what I was doing at the school and further explained that I needed directions to _Uchan's_ to meet with Nabiki Tendo to seek her help on casting my theatrical projects. "I hear," I began with slight hesitation, feeling a sweatdrop beginning to form on the back of my head, "that you are quite the thespian yourself. I could offer you a part (_a very small one_, I thought to myself) in one of the shows as a reward for your assistance."

Happosai's eyes lit up at the thought of a chance in the spotlight. "Well, yes, I…ahem…could take the time out of my busy schedule to accommodate you and your play…" I resisted the urge to roll my eyes as he attempted to lay on the charm, but was thankful that he was forthcoming with directions.

"It's settled then. I'll be in touch…_if I don't wake up first_," I replied, suppressing the latter under my breath, and headed in the direction Happosai had indicated. Rounding a corner, I snapped my fingers, an ear-to-ear grin on my face as I contemplated Happosai's sudden surprise at the just-as-sudden disappearance of his newfound prize. My musings were confirmed a moment later with a loud yelp and a cry of "_No Fair!_" blurted from the direction of the school. I chuckled softly to myself and picked up my stride as I turned onto another street, _Uchan's_ shop sign quickly coming into view.

I found myself wondering what okonomiyaki would taste like as the frying smells of Asian cuisine drifted through the open restaurant door.


	17. Seventeen

Chapter Seventeen 

Background Theme:  _Life as Usual_

"So, there you have it," I finished, gulping down the last bite of my shrimp okonomiyaki, following it with a quick sip of tea.  The dish was quite delicious, with its light, crisp crust, tangy sauce, and flavorful toppings.  I sat back, satisfied with the meal, and awaited my dinner guest's response.

Nabiki Tendo looked back at me a moment, the spoonful of chocolate sundae halfway to her mouth.  Her eyes narrowed a second, and then she finished the motion, slipping the empty spoon from between her lips and setting it carefully on the table in front of her with a slight, graceful flourish.  Quietly regarding me once more, she leaned slightly to her right, whispering into her companion's ear.  A cute girl with long chestnut hair and dark eyes, she looked at me while Nabiki whispered; her eyes widened slightly, and she turned to look at Nabiki.  Whatever it was she had said, it caught her slightly off-guard.  She glanced back at me briefly and then back to Nabiki, nodding once, and slipped out of the booth.  I turned my head and leaned out of the booth to see that she had left the restaurant.  I turned back to Nabiki and eyed her askance.  She simply smiled enigmatically and said, "Merely calling in a few favors."

"Ah," I replied.  I wondered what kind of dirt she'd threaten to expose in order to pull the strings she had offered to.  It didn't matter, though.  If she was true to her word, and I had no doubt that she would be, I would have a full cast with plenty of stage crew and extras by week's end.  With that issue out of the way, I could now broach another, more sensitive, subject with Nabiki.  I paused a moment while a waitress took away my plate and refilled our drinks.  I had thought Ukyou ran her shop by herself.  Then I realized that the waitress was actually Konatsu, her erstwhile cross-dressing suitor.

       "I'm a little concerned about the recent upturn in your sister's relationship with Ranma," I continued after Konatsu moved on to another table.

       "Not that it's anyone else's concern, but why would _you_ be?"  Nabiki queried.

       "Think about it, Nabiki.  Up to this point, Ranma has been indifferent, at least outwardly, toward all of his fiancés.  Although,"  I paused while I took a sip of tea, "I have always suspected he cares more for Akane than he lets on."

       "And your point is?"  She retorted expectantly.

       "There has always been a…balance – well, sort of – that has existed between Ranma, Akane, Ukyou, Shampoo, and even Kodachi.  As long as no preference was shown, the rivalries have been relatively benign.  Now he seems to have made a choice.  I'm glad Ranma has finally made up his mind, but it could prove at this point to be his undoing.  Love, however one-sided it can be, can make people do weird, and even drastic, things."

       "And you think one of them will take action against him for spurning the rest?"  Nabiki said, finishing the last of her sundae and following it with a long draught of tea.  "I can see them trying to get even with Akane, but not Ranma.  Akane can take care of herself."

       "I don't doubt that," I countered, "but there are always innocent casualties in any war.  And a war is what will erupt in response to the sequence of events that have occurred over the last few days.  It will be a quiet one, and a deadly one.  And," I took a deep breath, looking Nabiki straight in the eye, "it will destroy those closest to him."

       Nabiki stared at me, stunned.  After a long moment, her eyes narrowed as she said, "You're serious.  How do you know this?  What proof do you have?"

       Giving her a knowing smirk of my own, I finished off the last of my tea.  Looking out the booth window, I said, "I might be a _gaijin_ stranger in a strange land, but even I have my sources.  As for proof, you wouldn't believe me if I told you."  _Told you that you were nothing more than a character in a story.  Told you that your entire world was nothing more than the setting for that story.  And told you that in one such story, a jealous Shampoo would move against Akane, only to end up accidentally killing Ranma._

       Nabiki regarded me quietly as she slipped her teacup into her sundae bowl and slid them to the outer edge of the table to be picked up by the server.  I slowly did the same.

       "If what you say is true," she began, haltingly, "then why tell me?  What do you want me to do about it?  What do you _expect me to do?"_

       "I _expect you to do what you always do.  Watch out for those whom you care about…and try to grab a profit in the meantime."_

       "Who do you suspect will start this – war – you mentioned?"

       "The one who really stands to lose the most.  Shampoo."

       "What do you think she'll do?"

       I stopped for a moment to consider.  I knew what she was _going_ to do.  I didn't quite know _how she was going to do it.  "I have a hunch.  When does the mail typically arrive here?  Wait…never mind that.  Find out if the Nekkohanten expects to receive any deliveries in the near future.  Especially any from China.  _Especially_ any addressed exclusively for delivery to Shampoo.  Find out specifically __where it's coming from, and if possible, __what the item is.  If my hunch proves correct, I may need you to stall that delivery…or perhaps lose it altogether."_

       "Very well," Nabiki agreed.  "Where will I be able to find you?"

       "At this hotel.  Room 210."  I slipped her the business card for the hotel I was staying at.  She glanced at it, nodded, and handed it back to me.

Slipping halfway out of the booth, she stopped and glanced at me.  Fixing me with a stern glance, she said, "You realize, of course, this is going to cost you.  In advance."  She smiled as she stood up and extended a hand in the universal gesture associated with all palm-greasing entities.  I sighed as I pulled out my wallet, opened it, and fished out several yen bills, each with more zero's than I ever wanted to part with.  When I finished, I put away my wallet (now much lighter for my trouble), got up, and headed for the door.  Glancing behind me, I noticed Nabiki reaching into her purse, pull out a cellular phone, and begin dialing.  I smiled as I shook my head.  Nabiki never ceased to amaze me.

I stood quietly for a few minutes after leaving the restaurant.  A slight wave of vertigo overtook me as I pondered what direction the dream should take.  Oddly enough, I was fine as long as I didn't _think_ about the fact that this was my conscious mind influencing the dreamscape.  The sensation was much like walking a long, thin bridge stretched across a deep canyon.  As long as I kept my mind focused on my destination, and kept myself from looking over the edge, I would be okay.  One look down, however, and I would be in a world of hurt.

A loud cry of "_Bakusai Tenketsu!" distracted me as the disorientation passed, followed by an earth-shattering explosion.  Smiling, I turned and looked down the street to see a young bandana-clad lad emerging from a dust-filled hole, newly formed in a wall that lined the street just past __Uchan's._

_Given the wanton acts of destruction that occur in this town, Nerima must have one hell of a budget dedicated to neighborhood reconstruction_, I chuckled to myself.  Turning in his direction, I proceeded to act on the beginnings of a plan that was forming in my mind.  As I approached him from behind, I could tell he was intently studying a piece of paper, holding it this way and that, even turning it upside down a few times.  I cleared my throat and tapped him on the shoulder.

Ryouga Hibiki was apparently too distracted by the object of his study to see me approach.  The poor, startled lad must have leapt thirty feet into the air, dropping the paper on the ground nearby.  At the height of his leap, his eyes bugged out and he windmilled madly about, losing hold of his map in the process, until he plummeted straight down.  He landed face-down, slamming into the street with sufficient force to leave a roughly man-shaped impression, the asphalt cracking in random, almost spider web-like patterns around it.  A moment later, he lifted his head, his face contorted in a pained grimaced that belied his _"Why me?"_ expression.  Small chunks of asphalt, stuck to his face from the force of impact, fell off his face and tumbled back into the crater.

The small map he had been studying tumbled slowly toward the ground.  I reached out and plucked it out of the air, saving it from landing in a nearby puddle of water.

I looked down at the hapless lad, offering my hand to help him up.  "My most sincere apologies, Mr. Hibiki," I offered as he popped a few of his joints back into place, dusted himself off, and turned a baleful glare at me.  "I didn't intend to startle you so.  I believe you dropped something," I continued, handing the small, hand-scrawled map back to him.  His expression changed to one of profound relief as he carefully plucked it from my hand.

"I'm sorry," he replied, scratching the back of his head.  "It's just that I have a bit of difficulty finding my way around, so I made this map the last time I left Furinkan High School.  I was headed to the Tendo Dojo and figured I could find my way back – only my pen ran out of ink halfway there.  It took me a week to find the Dojo, and I lost track of where I was when my pen ran dry."  He stopped and looked at me wryly.  "You're that foreign exchange teacher or something, aren't you?"

I nodded.  "Vic Daniels, at your service," I said, bowing slightly.

"Yeah, I heard some of the student's talking about you – you teach acting or some such."

"Theatre, yes.  As a matter of fact, we've been holding auditions for a Japanese adaptation of _Man of La Mancha_.  There's one tonight.  Perhaps you'd be interested in auditioning?"

Ryouga hesitated a moment before answering.  "Gee, I'd like to, but I don't know.  I'm not really a student there, and I'm not really the theatrical sort…"

"I hear a friend of yours might be auditioning as well…a Miss Tendo.  Akane Tendo."

"AKANE?!"  He screamed in surprise.  Suddenly, the skies darkened as a spotlight appeared out of nowhere, shining on him as he struck a dramatic pose.  Both hands clasped together, a look of longing desire on his face.  "Oh, my darling Akane, to be near you, sharing this spotlight of our love!"

I tried to keep Ryouga from noticing the overwhelming urge to cringe violently that had suddenly come over me.  With a pained smile on my face, I nodded and said, "Yes, she'll be there…uh…"

The surreal moment had passed.  The afternoon sun returned, the spotlight gone.  A soft breeze blew through the street.  Ryouga grabbed my hand, pumping it vigorously, an expression of sublime joy on his face.  "I'll see you there!"

_Bbbboooooooommmmm__!!!!_

It took me a few moments to recover from the sonic boom Ryouga left in his wake as he flew down the street toward a nearby canal, trailing clouds of dust, in the exact opposite direction of the school.    I waved my hands in front of my face in an effort to dispel the dust that surrounded me as I fought the urge to cough forcefully.  Off in the distance I heard an abject scream of terror, followed by a splash, and then a woeful "_Bweee__!_"  Once I regained sufficient composure, I shook my head, turned, and walked away toward my hotel.  I had a few hours before the audition.  A quick bite to eat (despite my repast at Uchan's) and a short nap seemed to be in order.

*   *   *   *   *

Background Theme:  _Ok is Not the Word_

My eyes fluttered open as I felt the warm rays of a bright sun cross them, and closed them just as quickly to keep from being blinded.  The morning sun was beginning its slow climb into a clear-skied heaven, and its radiance was being reflected off a picture frame that sat atop the entertainment center located across the room from my couch.  I sat up slightly, blinking the sleep out of my eyes, and looked around.  I tried to remember the events of the night before.

_Alisha_.  She was gone.  I could still feel the slight touch of her weight on my chest and the lingering scent of her perfume on my shoulder.  Tear-smudged mascara stained my shirt where she had cried into my chest the evening before.

I sighed.  All that turmoil spilled out of a devastated heart…and I had no idea why or as to the cause.  I sat up fully, placing my feet on the carpeted floor, and placed my head in my hands.  I rubbed my face a couple of times, then looked up.

       I tried to make sense of everything.  The dream had reached a pause, and now real life intervened.  I was certain Alisha would have told me of her troubles before leaving.  Unless…

       I glanced around the room again – and there it was:  a letter.  Propped up on the picture frame with her picture I kept on top of the entertainment center.  It was turned slightly, briefly catching the rays of the sun.  I stood up, stretched lightly, and walked over to the entertainment center.  The letter was folded neatly, "_Vic_" written in her flowing script.  I grasped the letter in my fingers, took it to my chair near the window, and sat down.  Taking a deep breath, I opened the letter and began to read.


	18. Eighteen

Chapter Eighteen

Background Theme:  _New __Paradise_

       "Here," Nabiki said, pushing a small package across the desk in my makeshift office.  "This was slated for delivery at the Nekohanten, specifically to Shampoo."

       "How did you get a hold of it?" I asked quizzically.  Nabiki raised an eyebrow.  "The mailman is a senior at Furinkan High.  He interns part-time with the local branch of the postal service to support his videogame and manga habit."  She smiled, continuing, "He's been doing that ever since his parents refused to shell out a single red yen for his 'wasteful spending on whimsical nonsense.'"

       "Here, too, huh?"  And I had thought parents only thought that way in America.  "Anyway, let's see what's in here.  But, carefully, though.  If this is what I think it is, it could be quite dangerous.

       "What is it?"  Nabiki inquired.

       I retrieved a small penknife from my pants pocket, opened it, and then proceeded to carefully cut the strings securing the bleached-white paper packaging.  Inside, wrapped within several pieces of tissue paper, was a small pouch.  Squeezing the pouch carefully between my fingers revealed the contents to be solid, hard, and rough in texture.  Donning a pair of latex gloves that I picked up from Furinkan's school supply store, I slowly opened the drawstrings of the pouch and poured the contents into my protected hand.  A small, black mass – about the size of a piece of charcoal and with the same texture and consistency – dropped into my palm.  Further inspection revealed it to be a root of some sort.  I was unable to tell if its state was a natural occurrence or if it had been treated in some sort of fire.  Tiny pieces of dark ash flaking onto my gloved hands indicated the latter.  I carefully replaced the contents, disposing of the contaminated gloves in a biohazard bag from the Chemistry Department.  After donning a new pair, I closed the drawstrings and tied the pouch securely shut.

       "Look at this," Nabiki cried out.  "This was hidden inside a fold of packing paper."  She held a small scroll about four inches wide, secured by a white ribbon.  Removing the ribbon and opening the scroll, Nabiki scanned the inked script, her eyes growing wider with each passing moment.  "This is unbelievable!"

       "What is it?"  I asked.

       "This is…this is…this is…" she hesitated.

       "What?!" I insisted.

       "This is written in Chinese.  I can't read this," she admitted, closing the scroll and tossing it to me.

       "Waaahhh!"  I lamented in abject torment as I caught the scroll.  Sure enough, the caligraphormed characters of what I surmised was Chinese was scrawled succinctly across the scroll.  Near the far right end, in the lower corner, though, I noticed a symbol:  a tiny skull and crossbones.

       "Poison," I announced, distastefully.  "Whatever this is, it's an ingredient for something of poisonous intent.  Probably ground up and mixed with other reagents to be ingested orally or to be breathed in."

       Nabiki was flabbergasted.  "Poison?  Shampoo?  Why that little…what was she planning?  Who was she going to use this on?"

       I knew only too well, but I could not let on to Nabiki the "how's" or "why's".

       "Your guess is as good as mine," I replied, "but whatever the intent, I'm disposing of this stuff right now.  Meet me back here in one hour."

       As I stepped out of my office to find a proper place to dispose of the pouch, I began running options through my mind.  I could always flush this thing down the toilet, but I had no idea what effect the poison would have on the water in whatever water treatment facility Nerima used. I also had no idea of the potency of the poison or a guarantee that the contents would not contaminate the water table in any way.  Visions of dead fish floating to the surface of lakes and streams, eyes crossed in a comical "X" fashion, crossed my mind.  That option was out.

       Throwing it out in the trash was not a good idea, either.  Whether Nerima burned their trash or buried it in a landfill, there was still the danger of direct natural contamination.  I could not risk causing harm to the environment.  Strike two.

       Then it dawned on me that this pouch would need to be replaced with another containing a benign substance in order to allay suspicion – at least until Shampoo attempted to carry out her plan – but where?

       "Duh," I said to myself, smacking my forehead.  An apocathary, or just an herbalist, would be able to help.  Fortunately, the market district was full of such places.

       To my dismay, no one in the market district was desirous to help.  As a matter-of-fact, they were quite helpful in quickly showing me to the door of their respective establishments when I presented the pouch and its contents.  Apparently, no one wanted anything to do with the three ounces of death that I carried, if I understood the last herbalist correctly – my Japanese still stinks outrageously.  I looked at my watch.  I still had half-an-hour before I needed to be back at the school, but I had exhausted my options thus far.

       Walking back toward the school, I passed a corner building that looked vaguely familiar.  I did a double take, and walked closer to the building to a sign posted to the side of the stairs leading up to the entrance.  Dwarfed by the huge name displayed in Kanji were the English words "Tofu Clinic."  A light bulb went off visibly above my head as a cunning plan began to formulate in my mind.  Unfortunately, the bright light also caused the glare off my forehead to blind, momentarily, a couple exiting through the sliding entrance doors of the clinic.  I bowed quickly in apology, dousing the light, as the affected couple, hands covering their eyes and exclaiming distressfully, grasped the stair railing leading down to the street and staggered pitifully down it.  Turning back to face the entrance, I was greeted by another surprise:  the incomparable Doctor Tofu.

       "Good afternoon," he said politely in perfect, unaccented English.  "It certainly is a most _lovely day, isn't it?"_

       "Dr. Tofu, I presume," I said, climbing the rest of the stairs as the final piece to my plan fell into place.  Bowing with what I hoped was the correct measure of respect, I stood up to find his right hand extended in the traditional Western means of greeting, a smile on his cheerful face.  Smiling back and shaking his hand firmly, I blurted out, "Doctor, I really need your help!"

       Standing back from the door and beckoning me inside, he said, "Yes, I know.  Please, come in.  I've been expecting you."

       "Shampoo's going to be expecting that package, Daniels-sensei," Nabiki said, echoing my earlier concern, as she entered my office.  "What are you planning to do about that?"

       "Substitute this," I said, extending my hand to reveal an identical pouch.  I opened the bag and showed her what was inside.  Except for a slightly rougher texture, the item was almost an exact duplicate of the poisonous root for which I had exchanged it.  "I'm not quite certain what this is, or what it will do, but a 'local herbalist' I met on the way back here assured me that it was harmless to ingest orally or nasally."  I decided it was best to omit any mention of my visit to Doctor Tofu's office, since I still had difficulty wrapping my mind around what had transpired during my visit there and I didn't want to chance complicating an already-convoluted situation.  I replaced the item in the bag, sealed it, and handed it to Nabiki.  "Let's re-wrap this package and send it on its way."

       Nabiki looked at her watch.  "If we hurry, I can get it back to the mailman for delivery."

* * * * *

Opening:  _The __Forest__ of the Sky_

       I had thought Alisha's letter would bring good tidings to me – that perhaps she had come around and would profess undying love for me.  God, was I ever wrong.

       _"I'm so sorry to have put you through this.  Last night started out as one of the happiest of my life.  He proposed to me, and I was so overwhelmed and overjoyed – I accepted._

_       "When I left his  place, the first person I wanted to share this with was you, my Best Friend.  Then it hit me, how much this would hurt you.  I know, deep down, how much you love me.  And I love you dearly, too.  But it came to a choice – and it wasn't an easy one to make.  I had to go with my heart, and my heart leads me in this direction.  I know I should have at least looked you in the eye and tell you, not taking the coward's way out, but I didn't have the heart to do it when I saw you last night.  That's why I was so heart broken.  'Why can't I have my love and my Best Friend?!'  kept going through my mind all night.  I know it's selfish of me to even think that, but I couldn't help it.  I hope you'll understand.  I never, ever, meant to hurt you.  Please know that."_

Short, simple, and bittersweet.  That's my Alisha.

       I sighed, deeply, my numbed fingers gingerly holding her letter.  I closed my eyes, breathed in deeply, held it for several moments, and slowly let it out.  "So," I said softly to myself, "it was less of a dream after all."  I recalled the phone call in my dream where these same tidings were revealed, the only difference being Alisha's consideration for my feelings in real life.  Funny thing, though – I had cried so much in that dream, or at least it _felt_ like I had, that no tears would come.  And at the moment, that was quite all right with me.

Interlude:  _I Can't Get Over Your Best Smile_

       I went through the motions of getting ready for school.  Fridays weren't so bad, though.  One class at eight, the next at eleven, and then I was done for the day.  Fridays Alisha and I usually met for lunch before going our separate ways for the weekend, unless I was fortunate enough to warrant her attention on a weekend excursion.  Somehow, I wasn't sure it would be the case today.  Deep inside me, something felt _stuck_, and I felt like I was held captive in the worst of Limbos.  I was on autopilot, going through the motions this morning, barely remembering anything of my Ethics or Finite Mathematics classes.  My sullen state lifted briefly when I anticipated meeting My Beloved for lunch – only to be dashed in a fit of despair when she wasn't waiting for me at our usual hangout in the Student Union.  Thinking she might have been held up in Chemistry Lab, I walked brusquely over to her classroom.  It was mostly empty, save for two students who were finishing up with an experiment.  They told me that Alisha had not been to class today.  My sullen mood sunk even further.  Had she skipped school to avoid me?  Why?  She was still my Closest and Bestest Friend.  Why?  I asked again, of no one in particular.  I felt myself start to go numb.  I turned on my heel, almost tripping, as I staggered back to the Student Union.

       The line in the cafeteria was fairly short – it usually was on Fridays.  I hadn't had breakfast, and even though I didn't have much of an appetite, I picked up a sandwich and a soda, taking them outside to The Tree, our favorite spot.

       It was fairly quite under The Tree, and I was assured of some privacy since most of the student body had left for the weekend.  I sat down, leaning back against The Tree, feeling my eyes start to water.

       "No, damn it," I cursed to myself.  "No tears.  Not now.  Not ever."  Clumsily, I began unwrapping my sandwich.  My stomach began doing somersaults in revulsion.  I tried to bring the sandwich to my mouth for a bite, but my arms betrayed me, falling weakly into my lap, my hands loosely clutching the sandwich.  Tears, held back by the emotional dam I had erected to suppress them, began to spill over the top of the breakwater.  I reached up to wipe them away, and then gave up as they spilled in a torrential downpour, the dam collapsing altogether.  Setting my sandwich aside, I brought my knees up to my chest, wrapping my arms around my knees and burying my face so that no one could witness the anguished outpouring of my very soul.

       From his vantage point in his office, Mr. Encio watched in quiet concern as his grandson wept, bitterly, over his unrequited love.  Then, with stolid determination, he turned back to the paperwork on his desk.

       And, somewhere, a quiet voice whispered across Space and Time:  _Deux Machine._

* * * * *

       "Huh?!  Wha!?!"

I bolted upright, pushing myself up from the couch, and looked around frantically.  My eyes stung slightly as the warm rays of a brilliant sun crossed them, and closed them just as quickly to keep from being blinded.  The morning sun was beginning its slow climb into a clear-skied heaven, its radiance being reflected off a picture frame that sat atop the entertainment center located across the room from my couch.  I sat up, rubbing the sleep out of my irritated eyes, and looked around.  I tried to remember the events of the night before.

_Alisha_.  She was gone.  I could still feel the slight touch of her weight on my chest and the lingering scent of her perfume on my shoulder.  Tear-smudged mascara stained my shirt where she had cried into my chest the evening before.

I sighed.  All that turmoil spilled out of a devastated heart…and I had no idea why or as to the cause.  I sat up fully, placing my feet on the carpeted floor, and placed my head in my hands.  I rubbed my face a couple of times, then looked up.

       I tried to make sense of everything.  The dream had reached a pause, and now real life intervened.  I was certain Alisha would have told me of her troubles before leaving.  Unless…I glanced around the room again – and there it was:  a letter.

_Huh?_

Propped up on the picture frame with her picture I kept on top of the entertainment center.  It was turned slightly, briefly catching the rays of the sun.  I stood up, nearly stumbling over a cushion that had fallen to the floor, and stumbled over to the entertainment center.

_What the hell…?_

       The letter was folded neatly, "_Vic_" written in her flowing script.  I grasped the letter in my trembling fingers, took it to my chair near the window, and sat down.

_Didn't__ I just read this?_

       Taking a deep breath, I opened the letter and scanned it.  Not believing what my eyes were seeing, I took another deep breath, closed my eyes, shook my head, exhaled, and began reading more slowly.  I had expected to read of Alisha's proposal and the emotional struggle she endured as she chose _* him *_ over her closest and dearest friend.  Instead, I grew more confused as I continued to read:

Background Theme:  _Itooshi__ Hito no Tameni_

_Vic,_

_   What a crazy night!  I'm sorry to have burdened you so with my pain, but you've always been there for me and I really had no one else to turn to.  Thank you for being there for me.  Thank you for not bombarding me with questions.  Thank you for simply holding me…_

_   You know, it felt pretty nice waking up in your arms!   __J___

_   I hope I didn't slobber all over you!!_

_   [The boyfriend] and I had a long, serious talk yesterday afternoon.  It was nice…he had gotten us a room at one of the condos on the beach.  We had dinner, then went back to the room and…talked.  Nothing more.  He said he cared for me, but there were things he wanted to do and places he wanted to go, but he just didn't see me being a part of it.  And rather than live a lie, he felt we should part at least as friends as we went our separate ways.  We laughed as we talked about old times.  We cried as we realized this would be our last evening together.  Finally, when the pain became too great to bear, I left.  Oh, you'd be proud of me.  I was brave, on the outside.  I told him I understood.  But I didn't.  I told him I wished him the best.  But what I really wanted to do was hit him.  I said my goodbyes and held it all in.  I wasn't going to let him get the better of me._

_   I sat in my car for a while as it all began to sink in.  And then I began to panic.  I couldn't breathe.  Everything seemed like it was falling down around me.  Then in one moment of clarity I knew what I needed to do.  Where I needed to go._

_   And what do I find when I get to your place?  You – out like a light, tongue hanging out, a snot bubble being blown out of your nose…just kidding.  I didn't want to wake you, but I knew you wouldn't get upset…not too much, anyway…_

The letter continued along this vein, going completely contrary to what I had previously experienced…

Or had I?

_What the hell__ is going on?_

       …And, somewhere…

               …a quiet voice whispers…

                      …across Space and Time…

                             … _Dehyoo__ Machenah_…

Closing Theme:  "Shooting Star"


End file.
